


I Hate The Rain

by idontfeelsogoodstark



Category: Badboyhalo, Skeppy
Genre: Apocalyptic, Eventual relationship, Gay, M/M, Slow Burn, Zombie Apocalypse, a6d just wants to stay alive, actually pretty rare zombie encounters, darryl really wants to get to nunavut, gay gay gay gay, he'll do anything fr, maybe smut probably not, not too many zombies, skeppy and badboyhalo, they have each other wow, they start as friends, theyre getting to canada, travelling, what else do i put, yeet, zak just wants friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontfeelsogoodstark/pseuds/idontfeelsogoodstark
Summary: "I hate the rain." A said, elbow resting on his leg as the fire ahead boomed with a bright glow. Though it could be seen from miles, it felt like an abyss up close. Smoke blew from the top, twisting and turning into the night sky. The rain would quench the fire."Me too." Darryl got up and held his hand out. He pulled A up and handed him his water bottle, a smile pulling at his delicate lips."Let's keep moving." Darryl finalized, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see Zak grinning.





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> ok yes this is a skeppy/badboyhalo exclusive my guys. my boys are caught up in an apocalypse and need each other to survive !!!

1  
  
Light/līt: the natural agent that stimulates sight and makes things visible: "the light of the sun"

Light. That was what was engulfed around him, twisting and turning its ways through every bone in his body and digging a grave he knew he'd be buried alive in. His world seemed to stop as he stood, like a deer, against the light. He could not move. His muscles dared not to venture further or back, but to only stay in one place as if sifting for a specific destiny. A deer in headlights. Quite literally.

The car's outline was silhouetted against the brights that made his skin shimmer with dirt. It wasn't a mobile car, no. The tires were slashed and whoever had been in it last had left it running. Maybe it was a mistake. The brights burned into his skin, yet froze him with a cold pain. 

Finally, he broke from the spell and stumbled forward in hurried steps to the sidewalk ahead. His shoes met the cement. He nearly dropped to the ground and kissed it, as if to show appreciation for the idea that he wouldn't forever be stuck staring at the headlights that had flicked on when he staggered by.

His fingers fumbled through his bag, which was now on the ground as he sat on the curb, and he pulled out a water bottle. It had a tag hanging off, 'ZAK' scribbled across it. Like anybody would return it. Water had become a valuable thing; something far more appreciated than it had been before this all began. He tapped the ground with his shoe, gulping down large sips of liquid before shoving it into his bag and clambering back up into a stand.

Unlike the headlights, it was dark everywhere else. Barren. Very few buildings had lights on anymore and that was the first car he had seen in miles that was even turned on. The world was quiet. Zak flicked on his flashlight and started walking, taking mind of the sidewalk in front of him and watching every building as he passed by. Southern buildings intrigued him- architecture as a whole caught his eye. The way things were built always differed from place to place and to study each twist and turn in every piece of foundation to pick out what was so unique to it was, well, one of his favourite things. 

The exact time he had gotten into architecture? Well, he wasn't sure. Probably around 1AZ, when everything was becoming a bit more chaotic and he was a lot more alone than he had been before everything went down the shitter. When you're walking alone for days on end, your eyes pick up everything. The smallest details. The way the clouds move, or the grass blows. The shape of doors and windows. The bends of roofs and railings. When he really started focussing and tuning into all that stuff, he realized a quick love had developed for it.

"I feel like blue would be a better choice." He said aloud, flicking off his flashlight and examining a suburban house he had stumbled upon down the road he was walking along. It was tall, but not big. Slim, if anything- reminiscent of the European houses he saw on TV. The curtains (visible through the window clearly) combatted the dark house, had a bright color amidst the darkness. A dark blue, he thought, would work better with both the inside and the outside. Zak nodded in approval of his choice. He walked once more.

Silence/sīləns: the complete absence of sound: "sirens pierce the silence of the night"

The rest of the walk was what we would call silent. He didn't speak to himself anymore and the world was, ultimately, silent. The air hung thickly and he listened for noises that didn't exist. He wandered until his legs could wander no more. Then, Zak found a house he could retire to and fell asleep for the night.

2

horrified/härəfīd: filled with horror; extremely shocked.

Shuffling. Scurrying on the floor, shoes hitting the wooden planks and echoing around the cracked walls that had gone months and months without proper light. More shuffling, more scurrying, and sudden slamming. Doors were opening and closing, glasses clattering to the ground and erupting into shards. They glimmered against the early morning sun, though not as much as they would at noon.

Zak's eyes pried open past the discharge (which normally would stick them close). He had learned to sleep light and get up quick, which rang true as he was already on his toes and grabbing his bag. 

He walked quietly to the door of the bedroom. The curtains pulled over the window proved darkness as something was easier to notice when you need it the least. As his shoes broke the cement below him, he listened to the crack, crack of it dissipating. Boom, boom. It pounded the walls and Zak felt his head swim, fear curling through each part of his veins as he stood his ground and slowly approached the bedroom door beyond all the crackling and the heavy steps. It was long and slow, each foot feeling like he was bound to a dream state and couldn't quite run (each step going slower and slower than the last).

SLAM.

The bedroom door burst open and it sent Zak stumbling back, fighting against the force to catch his feet and regain a steady stance. Before him stood a male, much taller than he was, drenched in black clothing. His brows were furrowed, his lips curled downward as he held strongly onto a red crowbar that was doused with rust and crusted blood.

"Hands up!" Zak complied, his bag dropping as he rose his palms to face the opposing male. He had an accent, he took note of that. It almost made him slightly less frightening than he was, but the suffocating fear didn't stop compressing his chest just yet (accent or no accent).

"Yes, hi, hello. They're up." His own voice fired back, though not in a combatting way. Just as he opened his mouth, his face met the floor and a fiery sensation collided with his side. It caused a thud and his hands lowered as he clasped his feeble fingers around himself. 

He couldn't tell if the man was talking through the thudding of his ears. It was so strong in his head, a constant 'bum bump' sound that was louder than anything he had ever heard before. What was to happen? He was waiting for more pain, more noise. Something other than the thudding in his brain. Minutes passed, though they felt like hours.

"You can get up now." As Zak slowly unfolded from being on the ground, doubled over in pain and worry falling as sleet, he took notice of how his belongings were spread out on the bed over the mattress. His bat was on the floor. The man was at the door. Zak's body unrolled from around itself, his hands finding his sides and his legs straightening as he stood once more, his gaze shaky for a moment as the thudding subsided to a distant part of his brain. Still there, but quiet. His eyes had drowned out the noise by scanning the room of anything he was missing (which he would be sure to realize later).

"Dude, what was that for?" Zak let out, his mouth running before he could catch it. Luckily for him, he didn't earn another kick. Instead, the male watched him walk. He stumbled over to the bed, gathered his things, pulled on his bag and stood straight. Pain stabbed into his side. He knew it would bruise and he knew he would need to deal with it later but it didn't irk him. It was just another thing about life. Oh well. 'It happens', as his mother would say.

Zak didn't get an answer, though that might have been for the better. He stared the male in front of him down, his eyes drifting over every part of his body. He had a firm frame, but his face was just as. It was unreadable, his brows not as turned but still pointed.

He took this as his cue to leave.

"Okay, bye now." Zak took his bat (it hurt to bend over) and left the room. He headed out onto the street. 

The sidewalk was actually illuminated now. He could see each building in detail despite the slight shadow of the passing clouds. The air was thick, though, indicating it was still morning and rather dewy. His mother loved this time of day. Heavy air. The male from before followed him out of the house, holding his own onslaught of items. He walked onto the street with Zak. He walked out onto the street with Zak as if he had known him for years.

"I said 'bye now'," Zak said. The male nodded. 

'Alright. He knows we're leaving now. Good.'

Zak started to walk, his feet dragging him to the left of the sidewalk. Just as he started to get used to the noise of his feet once more, he heard those of another. He stopped. The male was going the same way as him. Just as he opened his mouth to accuse him of following him (and to tell him to leave him alone) the male walked right past.

So they were going the same way.

Great.

Awkward/ˈôkwərd: causing or feeling embarrassment or inconvenience.

"Uh, why are you walking this way?" Zak said, his brain pushing it out of his mouth before he could even think of anything remotely smarter to say. He just hoped it didn't come out as super rude. Or that he wouldn't get it. He sounded foreign, so whatever.

"I'm heading North." The male with the French accent finally spoke. It had been a while since Zak had heard something from him that wasn't his dragging shoes (the way he failed to pick up his heels completely and they would scrape lightly on the ground with each step).

"Oh. Me too. What's your name?" A normal person would be able to feel the other person's eyeroll, but Zak was no normal person. He didn't understand people like others did. He didn't pick up on those things as quickly. Inconsiderate, if you will.

"Call me A."

"Like the letter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

No answer. Zak sighed, dug one of his hands into his pockets. He walked alongside the taller male.

3

lost/lôst/läst: unable to find one's way; not knowing one's whereabouts.

Zak pulled open the door, dusting off his hand quickly after. His feet dragged across the linoleum as he walked by numbers of shelves filled with nothing more than a few things here and there. It was quiet. His gaze went back to the door as he heard it open once more, though was quick to realize it was only A. He waved, then went back to scanning the shelves.

He pulled a bag off of a back shelf, his gaze going over it (they were original chips, no wonder they had been left behind..) and examining the label, looking for any kind of 'eat before' date. There wasn't one. His smile was bright as he turned around to show A. The idea of devouring chips pleased him, he hadn't had any in a while. He held up the bag to show A, who was examining some cans. 

The air was knocked out of Zak's chest. A force collided with his stomach, knocking him back against the powered-off milkshake machine as he dropped the chips. He let out ragged gasps, trying to reach for something as a hand pressed against his face and another against his ribs. His eyes shut. He prayed.

The force got heavier and heavier, the weight of another person slamming into him nearly sending him off his feet. He fought back, pushing forward with as much power as he possibly could. Rotting skin and burning flesh filled his nose, nearly making him vomit all over himself as he struggled to get his breath back.

His vision was swimming, his own strength was weakening and he found himself stumbling back. The corners went dark, his brain went fuzzy and he desperately tried to grasp his breath as he fell to the floor with a large thud, landing on a bed of boxes and plastic bags. Just as his mind began to swim away, there was a second thud that wasn't him.

Zak pried his eyes open, looking beyond himself as he finally caught his breathing up to speed. Low and behold, right ahead of him was A holding his crowbar. The curved end was dug deep into the skull of the infected that had pushed Zak to the floor. He tossed the Z aside, collected his crowbar, picked up Zak's baseball bat and set them on the countertop. 

Zak mustered a smile, closed his eyes and was ready to let himself fade into sleep (that his body was so desperately pulling him into).

"Wake up." He could recognize the accent, though barely had to open his eyes to recognize the hand in front of his face offering to pull him up. 

Their fingers laced together and up he went.

4

bonding/ˈbändiNG: the establishment of a relationship or link with someone based on shared feelings, interests, or experiences.

"Look, the chips are still good!" Zak picked up the bag of plain chips, holding them above his head. His baseball bat was still on the counter with his bag. Though A would never do such a thing, Zak wasn't necessarily one to think twice- perhaps that's why he had made it so far? When it came to stupidity, sometimes the dumbest ideas are just so outrageous that they work. Yeah. That's why he was still around.

"I'm surprised you didn't crush them, you know." The man with the accent chirped, his gaze going up as he shoved some canned food into his bag. His gaze went to Zak, brows furrowed.

"Just missed them. Pretty lucky." Zak swung his bag over his shoulders, grabbed his bat and cracked open the bag of chips with a grin plastered across his face. He was pleased to have his chips. He missed them. 

Zak held out the bag to A.

"Want some?"

A examined the yellow bag, as if it were a bomb, before slowly reaching into the slot and pulling out a small handful of crisps. Soon enough, a small smile pulled at his lips.

"They're stale, though." Zak warned him, before rolling up the plastic and tucking it away into his bag.

happiness/ˈhapēnəs: the state of being happy.

5

 

joke/jōk: a thing that someone says to cause amusement or laughter, especially a story with a funny punchline.

The sun was hot. Zak had his coat tied around his waist and his hair was wet with water that he had dumped on himself a few miles back so he could cool down. It was about midday and they were walking along a road that didn't have as many zombies as they thought it would. Usually, by noon, the streets would be crowded. Today they weren't.

"Nobody would reincarnate on the highway." A had told Zak, who had debated the idea before agreeing. The rest of the walk had been silent, except for Zak's continuous rambles (mostly talking about how he would hate to be a Z on the highway, for as there were no buildings to look at).

It wasn't that the male couldn't be quiet, it was just that he didn't like it. When the apocalypse had begun, he had come to learn that silence was really loud. It made his brain turn its gears and work against him, reminding him of everything that he would never want to be reminded of.

He looked over to A. A, whose brows were always furrowed and his lips were pulled down in a frown that was just normal to him. A, whose skin was slightly paler than Zak's but had tanned due to the sun. A, who wore black even on the darkest days. A, whose eyelashes were too long for his own good. A, who looked like he held Universal Law in his hands and crushed it between his fingers, though did so without looking intimidating. A.

Turning lake eyebrows and flowing eyelashes.

"Do you think one day it'll be okay?" Zak asked, his own brows furrowing as if he were copying or mocking A. His hands found the pockets of his pants and he walked in silence, his fingers playing with pocket lint and old change. 'The best part of the apocalypse,' he thought, 'is all the cool clothes I can steal.'

A shrugged his shoulders. Truly, he didn't care if the world fixed itself one day. As long as he was alive to see whatever outcome came around, he was fine. He just wanted to live. To breathe the air. He would do anything to get there, too.

"Maybe." A finalized, and then it was quiet. Not even Zak could find it in himself to talk.

As they walked in silence, Zak appreciated every single drag of A's shoes, only wishing that would never learn to pick up his heels.

content/kənˈtent: a state of peaceful happiness.


	2. Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait! Chapters on here will come out about 7-10 days after they do on my wattpad. If you want to see chapters earlier, follow me on there! @disinclined.

1

 

Zak swung his legs idly, his feet hitting the wall every second beat as if his body was ticking in time to a slow metronome. They had taken refuge in a local McDonalds they found along the highway, the rain proving to be something to fierce to walk through. Lightning crashed in waves, thunder rolling over the hills of trees and booming around them. If it was any closer to the beginning of the apocalypse, perhaps shortly after 1AZ, they could have found some food in the back and felt comfortable eating it. However, not anymore. Nope, not now. It was merely three years after the apocalypse (the date in his book reading 3AZ, at least). Any food left in the back of this McDonalds would be long overdue. Probably completely rotten.

The thought made Zak gag slightly- he envisioned approaching the back room where all the bins of food would be and seeing layers of flies upon flies. He imagined them flying up and swarming, overtaking him at once. He nearly gagged once more, though this time he was a lot closer to vomiting than the last.

 

There was a loud crack. Zak flinched, looked over at where he heard the noise from and sighed. His brows furrowed down, though raised equally at the same time as if to show a foreign level of confusion. A was sitting at one of the tables not that far from Zak's, cracking open the lid of his can of soup that he had taken from the gas station they had encountered a few days back. He had shuffled a ton of stuff into his bag to save for later, and he deemed as now being a perfect 'later' to sit down and consume what he had taken. Zak almost burst into manic laughter.

"Don't you need to heat it up?" Zak questioned, his brows raising a bit as he sent a look A's way that dared him to respond- dared him to question back his own choice of words and argue his case, which sounded smart enough on its own. A simply shrugged his shoulders, though. He didn't believe that he had to heat up canned food- wasn't the point was that it was good to eat whenever? Sure, it would probably taste a lot better heated up, but he didn't think of it as a necessity. Besides, it was just some Alphagetti. It was not like there was any meat involved.

 

"No, that's the point of canned food. You don't need to heat it up and it never expires."

 

"Everything has an expiration date, idiot."

 

"For canned foods, it's not any time soon." A smirked a bit before it fell from his face. His Turning Lake eyebrows and Flowing lashes pitched downward, his permanent frown regaining its place on his face. Zak, many times, had taken mental notes on how he was so intimidatingly not intimidating. Perhaps what was so frightening about him was not his permanent frown, but instead, the way that it made him look scary WITHOUT it on his face. Zak shrugged off the thought, deciding easily not to dwell on it for too long. You had plenty of time in the apocalypse, sure, but not enough to stare at newfound friends for hours on end until the rain stopped pouring down.

 

His eyes followed along with the brown of the walls. He caught sight of a window, where outside he could see the rain pouring amidst the dark. The wall had a lighter brown trim- not necessarily beige, but instead almost a grey. It reminded him intently of gravestones- something he thought a lot about these days. He could recall when his sister would tell him about what she wanted on her gravestone- how she wanted it to look like and what she wanted it to say. The words she wanted to be carved delicately into the stone. 'Now,' Zak thought, 'she will never have her dream grave.' The words almost made him laugh- the way they fit so effortlessly together and how funny they truly were. Though, when I come to think of it, perhaps it was less what he said was funny and more that he just wanted something to laugh at to help drown out the noise of the darkened world around him.

 

The door to the left of the building swung open. Zak nearly jumped out of his shoes (that were awfully worn down and he swore to get a new pair the second he walked by a shoe store. He needed to switch it up from the tethered ones he was wearing), his gaze darting to the side door where people came marching in.

The sound of feet was loud and he was so focused on watching about 6 or 7 people file in that he didn't notice A throw out his can of soup and dart to the bathroom. Zak barely had enough time to follow. He scrambled to his feet and darted into the restroom after A, nearly tripping on his own shoelaces along the way.

Zak folded himself into a stall, sat down on the toilet seat, pulled his legs up and left the door locked. His breathing was fast and ragged, and he took note of the same pattern coming next door from A. He was glad to know he wasn't the only frightened one, but that didn't stop fear from pumping in constant currents through his veins.

 

"Okay- what the heck is going on?"

"Shush."

 

As much as Zak didn't want to listen and be quiet, he followed orders anyway and sat in complete silence.

 

There was yelling outside the bathroom. Deep, loud, booming voices were bouncing around just beyond the wall. The volume made it seem like they were digging into his skull, though, as Zak tried to find it in himself to pick out words and string them together. He was a native English speaker and couldn't figure out what the hell they were saying- he could only wonder how confused and distraught A must have been feeling.

"Hello-" Zak was cut short by A telling him to be quiet once more. The male was itching to talk- to drown out who was outside the washroom and silence the fear that irked him. He didn't want to focus on it all, but within the silence, it was more than hard to do so. Everything stuck out and nothing could simply 'blend in'.

'I want to talk, please' Zak nearly said. The words almost fell from his lips, but instead, his mouth just hung open and nothing came out. 'I need to make it louder in my head, please.'

His fingernails dug idly into his hand, his foot lightly tapping quietly against the seat of the toilet. He was growing more and more anxious, nothing proving to work to calm him. His eyes drifted across the trim of the bathroom and he began to find comfort in the trimmings on the walls. A light brown, just like from the lobby. In most cases, architecture was found to calm him down. Colour palettes, mostly- not so much the actual buildings, honestly

For a moment, and only a moment, he felt his breathing slow to something calmer and the noises outside fell far quieter. His body relaxed a little, now feeling odd without the ache on his chest and stomach. He believed it was because of his eyes' focus on the trim and the way the colour complimented the light bathroom walls, but instead, it was because the noise outside stopped.

Zak was moving before he knew it. He unfolded from the toilet and headed outside of the restroom, A following closely behind him. There was no more movement in the restaurant- and no more items. Both of the bags, which they had forgotten on a table in the corner by a poster, were now gone. Zak felt like puking. He kept everything in that bag- things that meant a lot to him and just things he felt he needed to survive. Photos, clothing, his water bottle, and spare items were kept in that rucksack. Now, it was gone. It was gone and Zak wanted to vomit all of his insides out.

 

"What the heck, what the heck, what the heck, what the HECK-" Zak was freaking out, to say the least. If this was 0BZ, he probably would be pacing in his room on the verge of throwing a pillow (which would hit his cup of water over, spill it all over the floor and then he would be twice as frustrated as when he began). But, it wasn't 0BZ- it was 3AZ and he was still freaking out the exact same way he would years ago. I guess some things never change, huh?

"Relax, Zak. They probably took our stuff." A said, completely unphased and uncomfortably calmly. This completely sent Zak over the edge- who was in disbelief and couldn't grasp the fact that the people who had intruded and invaded the building had stolen both of their bags. Zak had been traveling pretty light up until this point, so nobody had ever tried to steal stuff from him. He also lacked bad encounters with people- he couldn't remember the last time he had run into somebody that treated him horribly (or the last time he had run into somebody in general).

"I can't relax when I know that somebody just took all of our freaking stuff!" Zak shouted, his fingers weaving their way into his head of hair as he expressed how he felt to A. The male didn't seem to be paying very much attention, though, for as he noticed something outside of the window and darted to the door to see what was happening. From beyond the glass, the male had heard wheels sputtering into motion and something beginning to move. This sparked interest, confusion and many other emotions in the foreign male and he was quick to try and investigate.

As he approached the door, he was quick to realize that a large truck was pulling out of the parking lot from where it was horribly parked. Four guys sat in the trunk, armed and loaded with bags upon bags of who knows what. Their car was loud and distracting as they pulled out of the lot and onto the road, dust sputtering up into the air and blowing in the wind as they headed down the street in a rather slow pace. As soon as they were out of the lot, A rushed out of the McDonalds and out onto the street as the rain poured down.

"Fuck! Shit!" The male exclaimed, letting the water drench him as he nearly kicked the wall of the building. It was one thing to know your belongings were gone, but it was another to know where they were going.

Zak stumbled out after him, a sweater pulled on tight as he combatted the rain with nothing more than his dirty hood. He stood next to the male, watching the dust settle as the rain quenched it and the street lights provided very little sight.

The two stood in silence. The rain poured, but they dared not to move.

 

2

 

As soon as the rain had cleared up, the two were on the move again. It wasn't abnormal for them to spend a lot of time walking- walking was pretty much all they did. In order to get from place to place, they needed to spend most of their days walking considering the fact that they couldn't really find a working car. Gas stations weren't pumping gas anymore, and you probably didn't have a key that fits into every keyhole for each ignition. Zak didn't know how to hotwire, nor did A.

The heat was hot and the air was dry, the dust and dirt on the road now shallow mud. On a dry day, it would have been a pale yellow (as any dirt road in the heat would look), but today it was coated in old rain and had puddles left and right. The sky was a light blue, no clouds in sight as the sun shone harshly onto the ground below. If you looked up, you'd see the tops of all the green trees that lined either side of the path in clumps- occasionally dying out for a little bit and then returning.

"I wish we didn't have to freaking walk," Zak said, his throat a lot drier than he was used to. He had gone a significant amount of time with his water bottle being at his hip, and now that it was gone it felt odd to reach for it and lead to no avail. He would play it off like he was putting his hands in his pockets every time.

"Suck it up." A's voice rang out, and he offered merely a glance to Zak before looking ahead again.

A was used to the bustling city life. He never really had to walk a lot considering his city always had some form of transit he could get around on, or he would ride his bike from place to place. Don't get me wrong, it's not that he never walked- it was just that he was far more used to riding subways or taking the bus. This new idea of walking from state to state was, well, foreign to him. Yet, somehow, he found it incredibly calming and he swore to himself that when reality and the world restored itself, he would walk more often.

No more taking his feet for granted.

 

3

 

Lights flicked on, an engine sputtered on and Zak was hopping with joy. Up and down, up and down, up and down. If he was any more childish, he would probably let out a squeal too just to accompany the happiness he was surging with.

The sky was a lot darker by this time- so much so that the lights actually helped a lot with seeing. A had found a car that still had the key in the ignition, and when they turned it the dashboard lit up and the radio clicked on. Zak crawled into the passenger seat, closed the door and turned down the radio.

"Holy crap, dude! You're like- 2000 IQ." Zak was laughing lightly- the first time in a while that he had done that. It was something he missed dearly, to be honest.

"I don't know how to drive, really, but I'm going to try." A warned Zak, closing his own car down and settling in front of the wheel. He shifted, moved his seat forward, then moved it back, pushed it forward again and then slammed his foot down on the gas.

Big city boy was so used to taking the bus that he never learned how to drive.

 

Eventually, A found a reasonable speed. Zak yelled throughout most of the search, worried that instead of dying to zombies he would die to his friend's stupid driving- that eventually quieted down, though. The drive had wound down into silence, the radio trying to catch onto any station it could find. Obviously, there weren't many left, but every once in a while it would catch onto somebody who was playing some kind of classical music that they had. It was easing- to occasionally hit a channel that had activity. It made you think about how there are still people left. Zak went through a lot of the apocalypse feeling like sometimes there was nobody left. There was never noise, never interactions- just zombies upon zombies with nothing to do.

They were passing through a small town when they heard their first noise. It was quick to stop, but that didn't put Zak to rest.

"What the heck was that?"

 

"What was what?"

"Turn right," Zak said, rolling down his window as he looked out of it for the source of the noise. The car turned and slowed down. As the speed on the meter fell and he was able to see his surroundings a bit more, that was when he noticed the truck pulled aside at a parking lot- seemingly abandoned.

"Right there!" Zak yelled, forcing A to a stop and hopping out of their vehicle. He wanted to walk up. He wanted all 5'8 of him to show the thieves who was boss. A had a different idea, though. He stalked out of the car and stepped over to Zak, Turning Lake brows furrowed and his frown planted promptly on his face.

"Don't go down there, they probably have stuff."

"Dude!" Zak's own brows furrowed as if to mimic A.

Without thinking (actually, he was thinking quite a bit), he traveled down the hill with heavy steps. It was overdramatic to say he was stomping, but it wasn't dramatic enough to say he was simply walking. He had strong steps as he approached the truck, glancing over the back before pulling open the back seat door with a strong arm. His brain had yet to go over all the consequences of the situation- he was moving with less of a purpose than he believed he was.

As he peered into the back, he was met with a strong 'HEY'.

Zak nearly got whiplash from how fast he turned around. He faced the foreign voice, his eyes traveling to the suspect as his brows remained pointed downwards.

The male who was yelling at him was much taller than he was- though that was only expected for as Zak was not very tall. His hair was dirty blonde but not the stupid kind. It was a genuine mess between brown and blonde locks, the color seemingly unable to decide. His skin was pale, though he had a bandana on that was covering the lower half of his face. He had glasses and though they were not very appealing, they didn't necessarily make him look back.

"Hey!" Dirty blonde yelled once more. Zak wasn't sure what to do- he stayed still as the dude headed over to him.

He was scared, to say the least. The male ahead was holding a gun and anybody with a gun would be scary- a toddler or an adult. Zak opened his mouth to say something to him (something along the lines of 'don't shoot me please'), but he was cut off.

"Hey man, you need to get out of here. I don't want to hurt you but if they finish and come out I can't do anything."

"You guys have my freaking stuff-"

"Hey, you need to leave-"

"Dude!"

 

"Oh my goodness, please! You need to get out of here!" The male insisted, which disturbed Zak ever so slightly. He was acting very rushed and very scared- as if something was out to get Zak and he was genuinely confirmed for his safety and well-being.

"Dude, no!-" Before Zak could continue to insist, there was a boom from inside the building behind them. Dirty Blonde looked horrified- petrified, even. He reached beyond Zak and pulled a few bags out of the back of the truck, hoisting them into Zak's hands and giving them to him. Not only was it Zak's own bag and A's, but it was a foreign one as well. He swung the door closed. His eyes traveled to Zak's, eyes standing sincere as he waited for the shorter male to leave now that he had his bags and had gotten what he had come for.

"Darryl! Darryl you fucking traitor!" The voice was loud and belonged to neither Zak or Dirty Blonde- however, even an idiot could see the fear that immediately shot through his eyes at the name being yelled and the sheer anger that laced it.

"Go!" Dirty Blonde said to Zak, who just nodded and immediately broke into a sprint back up the hill, the sound of gunshots and fire sounding behind him. He couldn't tell if it was aimed at the person he had just been speaking to, or if it was inside the building- everything behind him was blurring together as he scrambled into the car with A.

"Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, holy CRAP-" Zak mumbled, his voice rushed as he tucked his bag under the dashboard (where his feet would normally go). A looked like he was filled to the brim with fear- unsure of what to do and if Zak was even okay.

Zak's eyes fell closed, his breathing slowed and he let himself stop rambling. He needed a moment. A didn't start the car- instead, he sat in silence as Zak went quiet.

 

4

 

"Zak you're the biggest idiot ever." A said, leaning against the car as the midday sun burned into his back. His clothing was no longer layered- he had shed a few pieces of clothing so that he wouldn't pass out to dehydration. His hand passed slowly through his hair- which he often tried not to touch because of the grease build up. He yearned for a shower but tried his hardest not to ever think about it.

"Am not! I want to go back and find that guy." Zak tied his sweater around his waist, fastening it and making sure it was secure. Following that, he pulled his backpack on over his shoulders and fastened the straps so that it wouldn't fall off or feel uncomfortable if he had to break into a run at any time. He didn't think he'd need to, but Zak wasn't as dumb as he could come across as. He still had some common sense in that head of his, you know.

"Oh man, he did a nice thing, let me go bow down to him." The male mocked, trying at an American accent so that Zak would pick it up as him mocking how stupid he sounded (well, stupid to A).

Zak adjusted himself, ran a hand over his sweats to wipe them off and then face the downward level of the hill and where it bled off towards the direction that they had fled from. After the events of the night before, they had driven a few miles up the road just to get away from it and all the noise. Throughout the night, neither of them had seen the large truck drive past or heard it anywhere near, so it was safe to say that they hadn't driven past and they were still some ways back. With that information on hand, Zak felt confident enough to head back down the road and see if he could find the male that he had encountered before. It was risky and rather dumb, but he believed that they were still just a little bit up the road and only a few miles away.

"Hey, I'll see you soon, okay?" Zak smiled at A, who smiled back.

They hugged and then Zak left.


	3. Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops! accidentally posted chapter two again as chapter three. my apologies!
> 
> if you want faster updates, @disinclined is my wattpad!!

1

 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness

 

It was the dry road that lay, midday in late 3AZ, before the first of the persons with whom this journey held. The dry road lay as to him as Zak lumbered up the oncoming hill. All was quiet, to say the least. He had been walking for merely two hours after parting with A earlier and he was nearing his desired destination.

His feet drew him nearer and nearer with every step and though he could not see the building in sight (or any for that matter), he felt it in his gut that he was pulling up on what held a boy that he met the day before. A boy that meant so much to him without Zak even knowing him. As his toes lurched farther and farther along, he knew that with each step he was only a moment's closer to easing his active mind.

At last, the male's feet brought him as far as they needed to for as he approached the building from the night before. Low and behold, parking in the lot (though askew) was the large truck, filled to the brim with items of all sizes. He walked right on past, his head poking into the building.

It was a fast food chain, though not the McDonalds they had been to some time back before following after the truck. For some reason, they seemed to take a strong liking to the nostalgic restaurants, but that was beside the point. Zak took a few steps inside the Burger King, immediately taking in the repulsive smell but ignoring it as he ventured on. 

 

The building was not lit in the slightest. It was dark- for the most part. In the lobby, by the ordering counters, the screens overhead flickered with an old menu that was going in and out of consciousness. It was sickening to look at. The way the screen reflected onto the ground momentarily, and the way you could see distorted burgers and drinks on the menu above as if you were back in 0BZ, getting a bite to eat.

It was pretty fucking creepy.

It took Zak about half of a minute to realize he was just standing there and should probably pull out his flashlight. He fished into his bag, sorting through a few items as his fingers prodded for his flashlight.

 

There was a noise through the darkness. Feet- footsteps scurrying.

He finally managed his flashlight out of his bag and stood straight. His thumb pressed on the back of the handle and he turned it on the brightest setting, shining it over a wall. It was coated in decaying wood, old posters, and graffiti.   
In fact, the whole restaurant was covered. It looked like a war zone. Papers, food, bugs and decaying matter were everywhere. The booth seats were ripped, the walls were beyond dirty and it looked like hell itself. As if to make it any better, the tv flickered on and off every once in a while.

Zak's stomach began to churn. It rolled in his stomach, doing flips over and over as he began to walk forward. His flashlight flicked from wall to wall, balancing on every seat for a few moments before the noise of his own feet kicking glass or paper would stop his staring every time. 

"Jesus Christ..." He muttered. 

The fear building in his stomach didn't die down, but instead only continued to grow as he made it past the first set of tables. His feet wandered closer and closer to the distant flickering of the menu-

Sniffles. There was sniffling coming from somewhere. The footsteps had stopped and he could pick up somebody's uneven breathing. It was like he could smell the fear. Like he could feel the tears on his own face. His free hand fearfully shot up to check and make sure that it wasn't him crying, and thank god it wasn't. 

"Hello?" Zak's voice was shaky. He took a few steps forward, his shoes wandering into the light of the old tv that displayed the menu. Like a scene from a movie, he stood there in silence with the rays beaming down on him, his hands pointing his flashlight in every which way in hopes of finding the person making the noise. 

He couldn't blame them for crying. Whoever had been in here last had really fucked it up big time.

The sniffling stopped and Zak, for only a moment, wanted to believe he was insane. This was a shot right out of a horror film and he felt in each of his bones that at any moment, would die. He would drop, blood spurting from his neck as the person responsible for the weeping stabbed him. That didn't happen, though- and instead, he continued to wander in silence.

"Uh, my name is Zak." He said to god-knows-who. He could be talking to himself for all he knew- but as long as he got his voice out there, he felt fine.

He was met with silence for a long moment- several moments if you will. His heartbeat pounded strongly against his chest as he waited for something (anything!) to make a move or release some type of noise.

It was killing him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Immediately, he snapped around so fast that he almost got whiplash. His light hit the figure, who was taking a bag and leaving the building in a sleek scurry. Zak wasn't going to let them get away that quick, so his feet started to move and he followed him outside into the parking lot.

"Hey! Hey, come here!" Zak called out, as he broke into a bit of a run to catch up with the male. His hand collided with the other's shoulder and he pulled him to a stop. The second he turned around, he immediately recognized the dirty blonde hair and square glasses. It took him off-guard- to see the same guy from yesterday. It made sense with the truck still being there, but all his mates were gone and it was just him. He was seemingly solo.

He didn't look like the type of guy who would make it very far solo.

"What the heck-" Zak started, but he cut himself off. He had absolutely no idea what to say, and his case didn't get any better as the spectacled male immediately broke into some choked sobs. Though Zak didn't understand why he was crying and wasn't very sure if he should pry, he stayed where he was and kept an offering hand on the male's shoulder.

"Dude, are you alright?"

"It's fine, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Why'd you come back? I told you to leave." Dirty blonde rose a hand to adjust his glasses, brushing back some hair along the way as he stared intently at the ground. He appreciated Zak coming back for him, but it confused him to no end- in the apocalypse, appreciation between two people was rare when meeting on brief occasions (or a singular occasion).

"Okay, dude, tell me what the heck happened. It looks like hell in there." Zak insisted, finally deciding he would rather pry than stand by. Though a bit of guilt clawed its way inside his stomach, he managed to keep stable and ignore it. He took his hand off of Dirty Blonde's shoulder.

"I- oh my goodness.." Dirty Blonde couldn't seem to get his words out, which momentarily concerned Zak but he didn't comment. Considering how the Burger King looked, he must have seen some serious shit and Zak was fine with letting him take a moment to collect his thoughts. Zak would do the same if he had been apart of whatever had happened the day before.

"They're gone, all of them. They ran, they died-" The male finally choked out, his expression shifting. His eyes closed and his head tilted downward while his shoulders slumped. He looked absolutely defeated. Zak had seen many sad people in the apocalypse- people who had given up, people who could not go on anymore, people who carried guilt and people who could no longer live with the fact that the earth was no longer what it was- but never had he seen the frantic sadness that laced the male in front of him.

"Zombies, so many of them- I- Light- oh my goodness-" Dirty Blonde attempted to recall the events to Zak, but the male shook his head. He didn't need to hear anymore- he got it. Though it didn't really explain the wreck of the Burger King, he decided that was for him to wonder and worry about, not Dirty Blonde.

"It's fine, dude. Are you, like, alone, then?" Zak questioned, just to make sure. He earned a nod from the male before silence fell between the two.

Zak turned and headed over to the truck. Thankfully, it was still unlocked. He opened the backseat, checked a few bags before coming back out with a washcloth. He uncapped his water bottle, damped the washcloth and handed it to the male.

"Wipe your face or something, you literally look like hell," Zak told him, though it wasn't meant to be a rude comment. That was confirmed by the gentle smile that pulled at the corner of his lips.

Dirty Blonde took the yellow cloth and began to wipe down his face.

The two headed back in an easy trot.

2

 

It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness

 

Zak walked uphill on the dusty road by the side of the man, as he had done previously; not because they had the least relish for walking exercise, under the circumstances, but because the hill and the truck, and the bags, and their own belongings were all so heavy and much work.

His hands were shoved in his pockets as the two males were silent, not bothering to make any noise for as they were both comfortable with the quietness between them. A long road lay behind them and many bags were being carried by their own weak arms, so talking would add on extra weight that they desperately did not need.

"Where are we going again?" Dirty Blonde's voice perked up, which frightened Zak out of his thoughts. He wasn't even sure what he was thinking of- he just kind of dozed off in a way that didn't mean sleep. He wasn't tired, just in a state where this didn't really feel real.

"We're meeting my friend, A."

"Ohh, alright." He nodded, then it went silent again.

"He's really freaking cool. I found him way back. He like, beat me up."

"Oh my goodness... Sounds like a glorious friendship, but you guys should probably be a bit safer."

 

"Yeah, maybe."

With drooping heads and tremulous bags, they mashed their way through the thick dust.

 

3

 

It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us

 

"A! Hey! Hi! Hello?" Zak called out to the car as he approached it, arms shaking with weight as he tossed the bags onto the ground and let out an exasperated sigh. He had carried things for a long time before, but never to the extent of this walk. Dirty Blonde did the same as him and set his bags down, but he did it without tossing them onto the pale rocks. It was probably for the better, in case he happened to be holding a bag of canned food and fucked one of them up or something.

"A?" Zak walked around to the side of the car and peered inside, trying to see beyond the tinted glass. When he couldn't see A inside, he pulled the door open and peered inside.

His heartbeat began to pick up as panic slowly set in. The car was empty. He began to thrash blankets and belongings aside, moved some seats forward and back before pulling his body out of the vehicle. His breathing was quick and shallow. His feet began to pick up as he nearly tripped over himself with heading to the back of the car so he could check in the trunk. When in a state of fear, any hiding place was worth checking- even the physically impossible ones.

"Hey, I think there's something in the sand over here." 

Zak's head perked up and he looked over to where Dirty Blonde was examining the dust and rock mixture. Zak slowly walked over, squinting his eyes momentarily before looking at what was carved into the road. Relief washed over him; hurt punched him in the stomach.

'Stay safe. A.' Was written into the ground, probably done with a stick. Zak felt like puking.

 

We were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way.

 

 

***********

a/n

 

this chapter is so dry im so sorry!!!! its mostly a set-up chapter for the next and oncoming ones.

regardless, I had a joy typing this up. if you didn't notice, the first chapter had that definitions theme and this chapter has a charles dickens theme. I cracked open my Tale Of Two Cities and typed away! The italic words and the opening paragraphs for every section are all taken and modified from the novel.


	4. Four

1

 

 

Day 1.

It had been one day since Zak had found the note written in the sand for him. At first, he ran. He ran around the area, through highway trees and yelled. Then, he lied down in the grass and stayed there. At some point, while he was lying down, Dirty Blonde came and lied down next to him. They said nothing. They lay in silence and bask in the dying sun.

"You can't lie here forever." Dirty Blonde said, his hand pulling at the grass as he watched the sky go dark overhead. The highway was quiet and he could no longer hear the morning noises of the single birds left alive.

"Yes, I can."

"Not if you want to find him." 

Zak said nothing more, and neither did Dirty Blonde. It was better without the talking- maybe for one night, they needed to rest. Tomorrow they would find A.

 

Day 2.

The second day, Dirty Blonde went back to the car and brought it over to where Zak had been laying. He shuffled through some bags and pulled out some pots and pans. He and his group had been really well-equipped. From all the travelling and the frequent robberies, they found good stuff to carry along and keep them alive.

He built a small fireplace with rocks and twigs, lit a match, then positioned the pot above the fire with some branches and twine. He had set up his contraption not far from where Zak lay still in the water. He hadn't moved since the evening before, but Dirty Blonde decided not to bother him for as he looked peaceful in the green field.

He poured some water into the pot, then some rice they had kept.

He couldn't remember the last time he had made a meal for somebody. He had never been his group's designated cook- they usually left that job to Jack. However, he had frequently found himself peering over the male's shoulder to examine how he was making stuff. It was just in case, he always told himself. Just in case something happened.

He was always worried about the 'just in case!'

Everything he did was lined with a 'just in case' lace. It twisted and turned around every word he said and everything he touched. It wrapped its fabric around his hands and tied them tight together. It constricted his chest and made him triple check everything he packed and every step he took. It was a just in case hell.

He put the lid over the pot and started to make some oatmeal in a separate pot. 

Maybe, he thought. Maybe if he had just-in-cased the Burger King he would still have his friends. He would still have his family. Maybe, if he had just-in-cased the weaponry his friends had he would still be able to just-in-case their other belongings. Maybe-

"What are you making?" 

Dirty Blonde looked up from where he stared at the oatmeal in silence. He hadn't realized his journey through his brain and left him staring down at the ground. He poured the water into the oatmeal and set it by the fire. He turned to look back at Zak, who had groggily walked up to him and was now seating himself by Dirty Blonde.

"Rice and oatmeal." He explained, adjusting his glasses and pushing them up the bridge of his nose. His fingers danced momentarily on the handle for the oatmeal pot before he put it to rest and leaned back to pull his bag over to where he was sitting.

LIke Zak, he too had a personal bag that was full of important things. Old memories, favourite foods and spare clothing. They were things he kept by himself and held more importance to than any other bag he brought along with him. It held his heart.

"Darryl," Zak said, his eyes reading a piece of tape on the front of the bag that had writing on it.

Dirty Blonde, though surprised to hear his own name come from the male, just looked down at the piece of tape. His eyes drifted over to Zak and his eyes caught sight of the tag hanging off the darned water bottle he brought everywhere with him.

"Zak." He said.

Darryl's eyes met Zak's, and he smiled a smile that reached his eyes.

 

Day 3.

"Let's get moving, Zak," Darryl said to the male. He put his bags into the car and climbed into the driver's seat, though left the door open so air could circulate into the vehicle. He only closed it once Zak climbed into the seat next to him and rolled down his window (the car was old and manual and used a handle to roll down the window). Darryl closed his side of the car 

He pressed on the button for the radio, which fed back over static. He flicked through channels, in hopes of finding something but it led to no avail. His fingers left the knobs and he opened the armrest next to him, shuffling around to see what was inside.

Finally, he pulled out a cassette. The old owners of the car had left it behind and Darryl had decided that they needed some music to spice up the car ride. He pressed it into the slot, turned on the car and let the music of a Queen cassette play back to him. He had never listened to Queen intentionally back when he still had a home with technology, but as of right then he didn't mind bumping to a Greatest Hits cassette (mostly because he knew all the songs, not by choice but just from hearing them all in public as frequently as he had).

"Jesus Christ, I haven't listened to music in so long, what the heck." Zak, meanwhile, had forgotten how much he missed the sweet musical tunes and harmonies. He stared out of the window for a moment, as the car sputtered into motion before his eyes fluttered shut and he rested against the glass with a smile on his face.

 

Each morning I get up I die a little...

When Zak awoke, his head left the glass and he looked around the car. It was empty, except for the noise of Somebody To Love playing around the walls of the vehicle. He looked out the window for a moment, then to the seat where Darryl should have been before climbing out of the car. Fear was growing in him- twisting around his muscles and compressing his chest. Where was Darryl, where was Darryl, where was Darryl? Why did people keep leaving him? Why must he be destined to travel alone after just getting used to moving with the presence of other individuals?

Can barely stand on my feet, take a look in the mirror and cry...

Zak's heart rate began to pick up. Fearfully, he swung open the backseat of the car to see if Darryl had simply stopped to rest, but the only thing he saw were a few bags- less than had been there before. This didn't help his case, because at this point the world was swimming and spinning around him. 

Lord what you're doing to me...

Zak yearned for before he had met A- when only weeks ago he was somebody far more dependant on himself than he had become. He missed that with all his might. Then A ran away and he was left with Darryl, and now Darryl was gone-

"Hey, Zak!" 

I've spent all my years in believing you...

Zak's breathing didn't slow as he snapped his head to the right, looking down the road where the yell had come from. He squinted his eyes, focussed into the distance and immediately relief washed over him. It was so strong and so fierce that he nearly fell off his feet and onto the ground. Vomit clawed at his stomach and dared to climb up, but it failed to happen as he held his ground and looked at Darryl off in the distance.

"What the heck, you scared me!"

But I just can't get no relief, Lord...

Zak left the car behind and started walking over to where Darryl was examining something in the dirt road. The male's eyes were furrowed and he stared down at the gravel and dirt, trying to make something out.

'A.'

Somebody, oh somebody. Can anybody find me...

"He left it! He left it for us! He's showing us where to go! Dude!"

"Oh my goodness, calm down. I doubt that he's showing us where to go..."

"Dude! No, look- who else would write 'A' into the ground like before! He wants us to find him!"

"Fine, fine. But I don't like that he's directing us south."

"C'mon, man! We have to go get him!"

Somebody to love.

 

Day 4.

Zak strapped his bag over his shoulder, shoved as many things as he could into it, grabbed his baseball bat, examined himself in the car mirror and then closed the door. He looked over the top of the car to where Darryl was standing, bag slung over his shoulder and glasses placed neatly on his face.

"We're coming back for everything once we find A, right?"

"I hope so."

That was enough for Zak. He turned and started walking down the road. He fumbled around in his packed bag for a moment, baseball bat tucked under his arm, and pulled out a nutrigrain bar. He unwrapped it and ate as they walked underneath the blazing southern sun.

 

"Darryl! Watch out!" Zak yelled, before turning on his heels and colliding his bat with the lifeless person behind him. The steel smashed into their skull, sending blood spewing and their body stumbling to the floor. He couldn't rest just yet, though, because he was sending his bat into yet another zombie.

"I got it!" Darryl whipped to his right, the flat end of his hammer slamming into a zombie's face. Darryl couldn't even see what happened as the finger fell limply to the ground, tripping over the one behind and leaving it as perfect prey for his next move.

In a mess of blood, the two finished back-to-back. The red dripped down Darryl's arm, staining his shirt and crusting over the rusted hammer. Might as well kill some zombies with a side of tetanus, yeah? Good Ol' lockjaw (that is if he didn't already destroy their jaw).

"Holy crap, dude! That was freaking cool." Zak chuckled, a smile naturally pulling at his lips. He lowered his grip on the bat, then decided to just shove it into his bag as much as he could. Darryl shrugged in response, playing off the comment with an agreement before they continued on their way.

After three years of fighting rabidus creeps, it becomes more of a fun game than that of a survival threat. That sounds bad, I know, but zombies quickly became the usual and with the nearing 4AZ date incoming, it's less frightening to walk onto the street and see Z's. On top of that, Zak was becoming a lot more comfortable with Darryl and they understood each other quite a bit.

The sun was setting by now and they were seeking refuge in a roadside motel after seeing a big 'A'  painted on the side of one of the buildings. Zak walked into the lobby building and hopped over the desk, beginning to look through the various keys labelled with numbers.

"Which one do we want?"

 

"Grab 6."'

"You got it, dude." Zak searched for the label, reached into the tiny cabinet, grabbed the key and then slid back over the cabinet. The problem with Zak's previous route was that as he headed along, he kept mostly to highways so he never got much of an opportunity to sleep in beds and such. Now, though, as he found an abandoned roadside, he realized that if he searched for more of these he could spend far more nights in comfort.

He took the key, and the Darryl and headed to one of the tiny houses in the lot. He unlocked it, checked it clean and then set his things down so he could settle.

"Earlier you said you didn't want to head south. Why?" Zak questioned Darryl, trying to start a petty conversation to fill the silence that had set around them. Zak was unloading some things in his bag and Darryl was checking his mattress for bed bugs.

"I want to get to Nunavut. It's too cold for zombies up there. If I make it there, I'm home free."

"Is it really too cold for them up there?"

"Yeah. And there are a lot of little communities up there to stay in."

"Wow." Zak stared at Darryl for a long moment, trying to imagine a snowy community where everybody helped each other out. For a second, and only a second, he yearned for it- to feel the same sense of community as him. 

"Ok. I want to go to Nunavut too."

"Right, Zak. Goodnight."

"Night. I love you!"

"Goodnight."

 

"Give me a kiss."

"Ok- wait what? No!"

"PLEASE."

"Oh my goodness, fine. Goodnight. Shmwah."

"Goodnight."

 

Day 5.

"I think he went this way!" Zak announced, pointing at the 'A' carved into the ground with an arrow next to it. It was pointing to the right. He swung around on his heels and turned to face Darryl, who was looking at it intently. It was as if the male was trying to figure out a puzzle, but Zak didn't understand why. It wasn't that deep, why examine it so much? He turned back around, pulled up his bag and continued on. He almost didn't bother to check behind, but fear pricked at his stomach. What if Darryl didn't follow? What if he left? What if he turns around and he's not there? What if Darryl never existed at all? A figment of his imagination?- Zak whipped around and was relieved to find Darryl following him. As the spectacled male caught up, Zak lightly pressed his hand to his arm.

"Are you alright, Zak?"

 

"I'm fineee, just making sure that you're real."

"Oh my goodness. Zak, why?"

Although it's very unlike Zak, he chose to decide to not answer. It wasn't a topic he was necessarily sensitive about, but instead, a topic that he did not want to be a burden about. Zak was an emotional person, that is more than obvious, but he at least tried to not burden other people with what he felt that rang as more important than simply being sad that something didn't happen and expressing it openly. He didn't want to become a burden to Darryl with the fear he felt of being alone again, so he kept his mouth shut and shrugged his shoulders.

He turned around and started to walk once more.

 

"Hey look! Look over there!" Zak called back to Darryl, who was watching behind them. Up ahead, sprayed across the hood of an old, white car was a thick, black 'A'.

It was at that moment that Zak stopped in his tracks. 

Nothing had really hit him until right then. A had run away. He had left. He had gone with the wind but the wind left clues. He made marks. Why? What was the point of leaving when you were just going to direct people somewhere? 

This had to be a trap.

Just as Darryl caught up with Zak, some speed lacing his steps, he looked at his distant look questioningly.

"Zak, are you okay?" Darryl questioned.

"This is wrong. This is so wrong. Dude, we have to go back-" Zak turned, attempting to push back Darryl but Darryl wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. His arm wrapped around the male and he held him back, refusing to let him walk back all the progress they had made and all the highway they had covered. 

"Zak! Oh my goodness, Zak! We're not going anywhere! Zak- Zak listen to me!" Darryl's voice became sharp as he held the struggling male in place. As his voice became especially sharp, the movements stopped. Darryl, at the start of this 5-day walk, had not been into it- he was going along with Zak because he had nothing else to do and was too fearful to truck it solo. Now, as he stood with the daylight shrinking below the milky horizon, Darryl came to the realization that this trip had meant way more to him than he thought. It was a mission, a task- something to accomplish while time ticked by. His heart poured itself into it, his body ached for the next movement and next turn they would devote themselves to. It was far too late to turn back, and Darryl was not going to let Zak leave without his friend.

"We have walked for too long and too far to just go back. We are going to find A." Darryl turned the male towards him and stared him down once their gazes caught. His arm slowly let go of Zak and he turned around to continue walking seemingly aimlessly. Up ahead was a small town, and all signs showed that A was most likely there.

"Alright, alright."

"Really?"

"I said alright!"

 

The end of Zak's bat smashed open the window on the side of the building. The door was locked and this was the next best way they could go if they wanted to get inside. He wasn't a big fan of crawling through shards of glass, but there wasn't much he could do about that. It wasn't really like he could whip out a broom, a dustpan and then plug in a vacuum cleaner after to make sure he really got it all up. 

Just as Zak was about to maneuver his way inside the sharp hole, he heard a familiar yell from somewhere above him. He pulled his leg out of the window and looked up, though his gaze was adverted to a noise. There was a stinging thud. Zak looked ahead, squinted his eyes and came to realize that the noise had been because of a crowbar that had fallen from up high. He immediately headed over, his hands fishing for the metal before realization hit him.

This crowbar was no ordinary crowbar. It was A's.

He immediately looked up, trying to decide which building it had come from so he could pin down exactly where to go. Zak turned to the right and pushed open the doors of the building, his feet taking him quickly to the stairs. He pounded up the tile, the noise echoing off the stairwell with every step as he spiraled further and further upwards. Finally, Zak stumbled out onto the rooftop. He nearly fell to the ground as he tumbled onto the cement.

Sitting by the edge in a fold-up chair with glasses on his face was none other than A.

"Holy crap!" Zak huffed out, his lungs trying to catch any breath that they could for as they grasped helplessly for air after all that running. Zak could not believe he had managed to track the male down.

He scrambled over to A and pressed his hand against A's arm, but his fingers only fell through what should've been his skin. He fished for the contact again, his heartbeat picking up as he thrashed his hands wildly, trying to feel any part of A that was presented in front of him. Zak went to grab his hand, but as he attempted to contact the pale skin it quickly began to shift. The peach tone slowly moved downward as if it was dripping, before red was sploshing to the ground and white poked through the ends of his fingers. Zak stumbled backward, his eyes running over the figure. The skin on his face was no better than his hands- dripping down and down until the blood was gone as well and all that was left was the skeleton beneath.

"A! A!" Zak could barely yell as he stared at the sight ahead of him. He fell to his knees as he tried to fix what was dripping, but he only phased through.

"Zak! Zak are you alright?" Zak could barely hear Darryl's voice past the own horror that was booming in his ears. Despite his eyes feeling as if they were already open, they opened once more. He was sitting against the building he had been on only moments ago. He looked to his left quickly, only to see no A standing there with his bones revealed and skin in a puddle beneath him.

He was both relieved and terrified.

"No! No, A was there-"

"Zak, you need water."

"No!-"

"Oh my goodness... Zak! Drink this, please!" Darryl fished for his canteen and handed it over. Thankfully, Zak took a long sip.

Once Zak began pawing away the canteen, Darryl capped it and tucked it into the respective place on his belt. 

"Do you feel better?"

"A bit."

 

"Alright. I think you need some rest. Also, I'm sorry for being a jerk earlier. I shouldn't have been so snappy with you." But by the time Darryl's apology had floated out into the night, Zak was already asleep.

Darryl decided it wouldn't hurt to join him. He desperately needed sleep. So, just this one time, he would lie down with Zak and fall asleep as well.

 

2

 

When they awoke, their stuff was gone.

 

 

*******

 

THE DARRYL CONTENT! IM SO PLEASED! I thought I would struggle with implementing the smaller cute moments between Zak and him, but i think im doing okay!!! yay!!!!

have a great day! feedback is appreciated (:


	5. Five.

1

 

 

 

Zak was used to it. He was used to the way that it felt like every second day his stuff went away. He was used to the way that he was beginning to lack the sadness that was tied along with it. He was used to the way that it no longer felt like it was just his bags that had been taken, but A as well.

And being used to something was the scariest feeling of all. When something becomes routine, it becomes normal. It becomes something regular. When something becomes normal, you lose all reason not to succumb to it.

"I'm hungry," Zak whined, shoulders slumped forward as he sat in the passenger seat of the car they had found days earlier. He was tired- nights had been sleepless and he had no more comfort of his bag by his side. While a week ago he would have been all over finding it, he was no longer under that same cloud of hope and motivation. Right now, right then, he wanted to bash his head against the dashboard and force himself to sleep.

"Do you have any idea at all where A might be?" Darryl asked, at least still a little hopeful. They had been searching for a while now- days on days spent walking and driving around trying to find him. Zak had lost hope, but Darryl seemed to want to keep going.

Zak didn't get why. He couldn't understand why Darryl wanted to find A so bad- he didn't even know him prior to leaving. It wasn't like Zak had found time to tell him about A either. He up and left, Zak dragged Darryl along to find him, and now the tables had turned. Zak was a little grateful, though. He would've stopped looking at this point if Darryl hadn't pressed him forward every time he saw his shoulders slump and his head go low. The male wore his heart on his sleeve and Darryl could read him like he was see-through.

"No."

"Did he ever mention wanting to go somewhere?" 

Zak didn't even bother to reply to this one. He groaned, let his forehead hit the dash and went silent. He had spent days racking his brain. He had sifted for ideas upon ideas but had hit no gold. Everything had lead to no avail. Zak hit his head against the dash once more and then sat up to avoid getting in trouble by the male sitting next to him.

"I'm hungry, dude."

"Zak, does it really look like I can do something about that right?" 

"Ughhh." Zak rested his head against the glass. Darryl let out a sigh and started driving down the dirt road ahead.

 

 

2

 

 

"What the heck?" Zak bent down, squatting next to a mass of... Whatever he was looking at. His head tilted, his brows furrowed and he grabbed a nearby stick to poke and prod at a mess of fur and guts. It wasn't an ordinary dead rabbit though, no- This one oozed green slime and there were odd-looking bugs crawling in and out of the mass of skin and hair.

A particularly large beetle tore out of it and Zak jumped back with a scream. He dropped the stick immediately and wasted no time in turning around and heading back to where Darryl was.

The rest of the hour was spent looking in and out of stores and picking up small things along the way. The town was small, but they managed to get into a sports stoor and Zak picked up a bat. There had been a whole array of them, so he was able to get a pretty comfortable weight and a neat design. There was some paint, tape, and bandages in the back of the store so they helped themselves. Zak painted his bat, putting god-knows-what on it and then wrapping the handle in some tape to protect it from whatever he thought it would help with.

They were sitting on the floor, painting their new bats in silence. Zak dipped his finger into the can of blue and dragged it along the wood, his eyes watching it carefully before he dipped the same finger in the red. Sure, the colors mixed a little, but Zak couldn't care less.

"What are you painting over there?" Darryl asked, interrupting the silence. His own bat was blue and purple, dotted with an array of whatever colors they had dug up in that back room. He stopped momentarily and looked up at Zak, who was coating four of his fingers in some paint.

"What are you doing?" Darryl quirked a brow, squinted his eyes and watched as Zak set his bat down carefully. He watched the male untangle his legs, coat his other hand in the paint (excluding the thumb again once more) and slowly walk over to Darryl.

It finally clicked in his mind. 

"Don't you dare, Zak-" 

Zak smeared paint along his face, a smile flashing brightly on his face as he turned and went to go hide behind a shelf of boxes. Darryl got up, coated his own hands in paint and went to go search for Zak. 

Darryl got up off the ground and slowly headed to the shelf he had seen Zak dart to. He carefully walked with quiet steps, treating the ground as if it were glass and could break at any moment. Darryl went to turn the corner, ready to attack Zak-

"Aha!" Zak ran his hands along the male's jacket and the back of his neck. When Darryl whipped around to face it, Zak pressed his fingers to his face and coated the surface in red and purple paint. Darryl attempted to defend himself by having his hands meet Zak's shirt and paint it an array of colors, but Zak was trotting back to his bat too swiftly.

"You freaking muffin," Darryl said with a small smile on his face. The past few days had been grim, so it was nice to welcome a little bit of a lighter mood.

Darryl swung a new drawstring bag over his shoulder, put some bandage in there and a few headbands they had found on the floor. They had also tossed some water bottles into the bag. It wasn't a lot, no, but it was enough. 

The sports store was probably the best place they had ever stopped at. Not too many people had touched it and it had so many things- headbands, bats, shoes, bandages, tapes, clothing. It was perfect- they could find anything they needed. Zak had thrown out his worn-out runners and helped himself to a new pair of Adidas shoes from the back. They had a really soft inside and he knew his feet would start to hurt less at the end of the day now. Darryl had grabbed his own shoes as well- some soft runners that were a deep grey. They actually looked pretty nice, but Zak was content with his own white Adidas shoes.

"I bet I look as bright as the North star right now," Darryl chuckled out. He bandaged up an old cut on his thigh that he had wrapped some time ago, but was glad to replace the old material. It wasn't too bad anymore, but he wanted to keep something over it to avoid making it dirty and uglier than it already was.

Zak dropped his bat. The paint smeared a bit but he showed no interest as he stared straight ahead at Darryl. It was like Darryl was a famous celebrity in front of their biggest fan. Zak's eyes were huge and round, his mouth agape.

"Zak-"

"North! North-" Zak was scrambling to pick up his bat and bag. He barely had it closed and over his shoulder by the time he started crawling out of the store and back to the car.

"Zak! Zak, get back here!" Darryl insisted as he followed after him with a water bottle in hand. He was more than confused- why was Zak suddenly so eager to leave?

Darryl grabbed Zak's shoulder, forcing him to a stop and making him face him.

"Zak, what the heck-"

"North, Darryl! He's heading north!"


	6. Six.

trigger warnings: blood, physical violence, intense swearing and prob some other stuff

 

1

 

"Okay, so we know he's heading north." Darryl laid out the map on the table of a small diner. There wasn't anybody in there, surprise surprise, so they had the entire place to themselves to use their largest table and map out exactly where A had headed.

"He started here, back on the highway, with us." Zak used his marker (blue, a color he requested specifically and refused to sit down with Darryl and decipher A's route until he got it) to circle their old location on the map. He then drew a line down the highway to the first marking they found. He let that line go to the small arrangement of buildings they had found after that, circled it, noted the A in that place as well and then dragged the line to their current position.

"Wherever he was heading, it was a weird trail," Darryl said as he watched Zak draw line after line. It went forward, left, right, back, left, forward again- the blue trail was all over the place. Darryl couldn't place why exactly A would have taken such a sporadic path. Why couldn't he had just headed straight? 

"Maybe that was the point, though, dude? Maybe he went all over the place so that we could know we were actually following him and that only we could find him. Just- think about it, man! If it had been a straight route, anybody could have followed him. But-" Zak got up and walked away from the map. He was beginning to pace, going up and down the aisle from one end to another. 

"But if the route was all over the place, only we would know what we're looking for. We'd be the only ones actually searching- other people would, like, stop because they're going backward and all over. They wouldn't keep looking because it would seem useless- because they wouldn't know what they were looking for in the first place!" Zak smacked his fist against the palm of his hand, a smile on his face as he turned back to look at a grinning Darryl. They had cracked it- the code that A had put in place had been deciphered.

The cards were on the table.

"Oh my goodness... But wait- then why would A leave if he wanted us to follow him? Doesn't that seem odd to you, Zak?" Darryl questioned, his eyes going back to the map that had been drawn all over with blue marker. He couldn't place his finger on a reason as to why A would leave in the first place if he wanted them to follow him. Couldn't he had just asked them to go with him? 

"I don't know, man. I do know where he's headed, though. There's nothing dangerous up north- he told me he wanted to get to the communities up there because there aren't any zombies or threats. If we head north, we've got to find him. There's no way he's there yet and he'll still be leaving clues." Zak headed back to the table and grabbed the map from the middle. He crumpled it together and shoved it blindly into his bag before leaving the diner and rushing out to the car.

For the first time in a while, Zak felt awake and ready for anything. After weeks of searching for A and being ready to give up, they had finally figured out where he was going and how to get to him.

"Drive fast, dude. Go as quickly as you freaking can." 

Darryl's foot hit the pedal. They were off.

 

2

 

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"Where is he?" 

"I told you, I don't know."

 

"Where the hell is he!" Yelling pierced the air, cutting through the thickness with the ease of a heated knife. Hands slammed down against a nearby table, sending utensils in the air and onto the ground. The same hands headed over to the male who was pleading he had no idea where the man was.

"I'm going to ask you one last time. Where is he?"

"I. Don't. Know." The accent was thick. It was French.

Slap.

"Bullshit you don't know! Absolutely bullshit! Tell me where he is! Tell me where the fuck he is!" Hands slammed on the table once more, shoving a tray of metal belongings on it to the floor. The male let out a loud and frustrated yell before swiping up something that had fallen to the floor. 

He approached the smaller man. The man with the accent, that is. He was shorter than him, though was especially small now that he was strapped and tied to a chair. Just below the chair, the floor was stained with blood- the cement reeking of a struggle and an attempted fight. 

He grabbed his hand, held it and splayed the fingers out. The struggling party between the two could now see that he was holding a scalpel.

"I'm gonna ask you again, Vincent. One last fucking time. Where is he? "

 

3

 

The car skidded to a stop, the back half taking the lead in spinning the car around for a moment before everything went quiet. Zak's chest rose and fell with the impact of heavy breathing and fear, unsure of what to say or do. He had never been in any kind of car accident and that was the closest he ever wanted to get. He unbuckled his seatbelt and clambered out of the vehicle, slamming the door closed and resting his head against the outside.

"Oh my goodness," Darryl whispered as he got out as well. He closed the car door and squinted his eyes behind his glasses. They had been sailing well until something... someone had run out into the middle of the road. Darryl had swerved and the car was unable to straighten itself out. He tried to stop but ended up also having jerked the wheel- god, it hurt to even think of it all.

"You're such an idiot!" Zak cried out, looking over the car to the four-eyed male standing on the other side. This far in the apocalypse, Zak often wondered how he managed to keep his glasses damage-free. How had the lenses not cracked at some point?

"It's not my fault, Zak! Something ran out onto the road!" Darryl bickered back. He sighed and leaned against the car, deciding not to waste energy on throwing his hands up into the air and yelling back for any longer. This was only a small hiccup, they had to keep going. Darryl got back into the car and turned the key.

Zak took a moment to himself outside of the vehicle. He didn't feel that they had gotten any further than they had hours before and Zak was beginning to doubt himself again. The hope he had felt hours ago was beginning to wash away and he wanted to throw in the towel and just go home.  For the first time in a while, Zak wanted to curl up in his bed and be at home again. He wanted to fall asleep to the sound of his sister chirping away to her friends and his parents talking in the living room while a movie in another language played. He wanted things to be normal again.

He got back into the vehicle and pulled the map out of his bag. They needed to get a move on no matter how Zak felt- he understood that he couldn't stall this search. 

"You need to go right."

"There's no road to the right-"

"I don't know, then, drive through the trees!"

"Oh my goodness... Zak, I can't drive through the trees!"

 

"People in car commercials do it all the time! Just drive into the trees!" Zak persisted, using his fingers to follow the fastest route to the next main road. The one they were on was getting cut off soon and turning east then staying east. They needed to keep going north but had missed the turn miles back and Zak was not willing to retrace their steps. They needed to get going and cover as much ground as soon and as quickly as possible.

"Just do it!"

 

 

4

 

 

"Please... I don't know where they are..." A's voice was exhausted. His face was red from blood and being hit so many times. His right eye was beginning to swell and he could barely see without the glasses that had been thrown onto the floor at some point. He tried to move and force his body away from the chair as if he could break free from the rope, but it led to no avail and he slumped back against the wood.

"They?" He stood straight while A cowered beneath him. The man turned on his heels, headed over to the table that was set aside and swiftly scribbled something into a notepad. 

A group of feet came pounding into the room. They were all in unison but still made him jump none the less.

"Mr. Merrimick, the supplies just came in." He sent them on their way, shaking his head and gripping the scalpel tightly between his fingers. A still sat tiredly in front of him.

"What do you mean by 'they'?" He questioned, voice stern as he lowered himself in front of A. A's head was hanging low. He spat out some blood that had collected in his mouth.

"Darryl. Darryl and Zak. They're together- They're-" A's scream punched through the air as he felt his hand get slowly crushed in the grip of the male ahead of him. His yelling was loud and tired. It dragged on, followed by a string of swears before it finally subsided and the male let go. When his hand was free, he could feel it pounding as if something was inside and pushing against the skin to get out.

"Stop... Please, please stop..."

"Tell me where they are and this will all be over, son."

"I don't know where they are dammit!" A let out a yell once more, but this time it was for another reason than his hand being crushed. The man had grabbed his other hand, the one that wasn't pounding and had thrust the fingers apart. Within seconds, he had used the scalpel to cut the skin between his index and middle finger. A's yelling only got louder as the stinging sensation grew from the man pushing his fingers together.

"Tell me where they are or I'll cut between every single one of your fucking fingers. I'll peel off your fingernails one by one if I have to for you to speak." A's fingers were apart once more. It took three more cuts before the man was able to work anything out of him.

"Route 4! Route 4! I left them on Route 4!" A let out with trouble as if he was gasping for air as he spoke. His mouth hung open, lips were swollen and covered in blood from the physical fight he had tried to put up against him. 

"Please stop... Please..." 

A's pleas were finally answered. The man dropped the scalpel and headed to the table to scribble in his notebook once more.

 

 

5

 

 

"So this is the place?" Zak stared up at the building. It was tall- very tall. His eyes caught note of the twisting white along each window and along the door frame. He watched it turn and coil around the frames and create an intricate design. If this really was where A was, he had some great taste.

"Must be. A's last clue is only a mile or so back. You're sure that was his bag back there?"

"Positive." Zak smiled at Darryl, giving the male a nod of certainty as if to say 'yes, I want to do this.' 

Zak looked back at the building and started walking. He couldn't wait to see A. His smile, turning lake eyebrows... 

Zak was pulled to a halt. He flinched but was quick to understand it was only Darryl that had grabbed him. He looked down at his wrist, which was being held firmly by his friend. Brows furrowed, he opened his mouth to question what he was doing but was cut off by him.

"Zak, I- Be careful."

"You know you're coming in with me, right?"

"I know, but... Oh my goodness, just be careful, okay?"

 

"Okay, dude," Zak chuckled, not thinking much of it as he turned and headed inside with his bat in hand.  He was ready to kick ass- more than ready. He was prepared to take on any creatures or any zombies that would prevent him from possibly finding A in this place.

 

 

Opening the door was like entering a new world. When it closed, purple lights became more apparent than ever. A long, long hallway was what Darryl and Zak followed with quiet steps. The purple lights overhead slowly turned into a red color and by the time they got to the end, the light was blood red. 

The hallway had opened into a small room. There was a door to the right and the hallway continued across the room and cut off into a sharp left. 

"What the heck is this place?" Zak whispered to Darryl, but the male only shrugged in return and slowly headed out into the main opening. The lights made it slightly harder to see anything. It tinted the view of reality and made adjusting to the room so much harder.

"Maybe it's some kind of-"

"Hey!" The yell was loud and sharp and followed by the noise of metal hitting metal. Darryl snapped his head over to the noise, eyes wide and filled to the brim with fear. As soon as he caught sight of who had walked in, he immediately regretted ever agreeing to find A.  
The male walked with stomps over to Darryl, who stood frozen in place. He couldn't tell if it was fear or curiosity, or maybe he became paralyzed sometime between stopping walking and seeing the male, but whatever it was it prevented him from moving.

"Hey, listen-" With no time to negotiate, Darryl fell forward as his shirt was yanked forward. He let out a yelp before being pushed back against the wall behind him, to which he nearly fell to his knees. Darryl didn't get the chance to hit the ground, though. The male picked him up by his collar, held him against the hard cement for a moment and sent a punch to his face. It was followed by another and a kick to the stomach-

 

"Hey! Hey!" Zak scrambled out of his hiding place and pressed all of his force into the male ahead of him. His fingers twisted into the fabric of his coat and he threw him as far aside as he could with the little bit of strength he had. Zak had never been the most muscular in the room or the strongest guy in the court, but god did he ever push and push until he got his way.

"Leave him alone!" Zak yelled, pulling Darryl up from where he had fallen to the ground. He used his shirt to pull the male along, grabbing his own bat and bag along the way as he darted into the room to the right before the man could wake up.

Zak let go of Darryl and dropped to the ground, heaving from the stress finally dying down and the adrenaline beginning to pound less and less in his ears.   
The two of them had invited themselves into another hallway, but this one was shorter and had a ladder at the end that went down into a possible basement. Zak didn't care yet, though. Instead, he was leaning against the hallway wall and letting his breathing catch up to pace with the rest of him- to settle and understand what the hell was going on.

"Holy crap, dude. Holy crap!" Zak started to talk but Darryl tiredly hushed him. He didn't want to get caught again.

"Be quiet, Zak. We need- We need to keep moving. Come on." Darryl slowly started to climb into a stand. He started to stumble forward- started to walk down the hallway to the ladder. Darryl hadn't been beaten up in a long time and he had no idea how to grasp his breathing again and get used to the pain that he couldn't feel yet. He felt slow and sluggish, but he couldn't tell if it was from the pain in his legs or the blow he had taken to the head.

He trudged onward, his head pounding with every step and his blood blaring in his ears at a steady pace. Just as he was beginning to feel dizzy and was ready to sit down and nap, an arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders and pulled him up into a proper stand.  
Darryl's head turned to see a smiling Zak. A Zak who, even though their lips were curved slightly upwards, had their brows furrowed and was determined on not only helping Darryl but finding his friend, too.

 

The basement was just as confusing as the main floor. Zak was standing with a map in his hand. He had grabbed it from atop a box they had passed and was slowly trying to figure out some reliable exit routes. They had no idea where A was and if they had to get out, they would need to get out fast.

"How do you even know where he is?" Darryl asked, wiping his mouth and tossing the red tissue aside. It hurt his chest a little bit to litter like that, but he convinced himself he would be back later to pick it up and throw it into a proper trashcan- they were just occupied at the moment, that's all.

 

"I don't." Zak looked up at Darryl with that same shit-eating grin he had seen so many times before since meeting him a few weeks ago. He couldn't help but laugh a bit- a real chuckle that floated out of his mouth like delicate music notes.

"Alright, I trust you. Do you have an educated guess?"

"I have hope, Darryl. And that's all I need."

 

 

6

 

 

"Agh!" A yelled, throwing his head back as he tried to force himself free once more. It earned nothing but a laugh from the male across the room, who was beginning to piece together this puzzle he had crafted. 

There was pounding on the door, which had stopped startling him at this point. The man set down his notebook and headed to the door, pulling it open and looking swiftly over the person at the door. His brows furrowed but that was the most at which his confusion showed himself. His silence prompted the person to speak.

"He's here, sir. Operation D. He came to us." 

"He's here?" The man turned around and went quickly to his table, swiping up a couple of things and tucking his notebook into the pocket of his pants. He headed back to the door, where the same person from before stood proudly.

"But he has a friend." 

'I don't know where they are' 'they?' 'I left them' 'them'

The man looked back. The chair was empty.

 

 

7

 

 

"Zak you're insane!" Darryl yelled, his voice shaky from trying to keep up with the two.

Zak had pulled off the cover of a vent and dropped into a room that they had misunderstood to be a chain between six other rooms. They had no idea they'd be climbing straight into A's path. Zak had used all of his strength to quietly hoist the male into the vent with him and backtrack to where Darryl was waiting at a fork in the tunnel.

Now, they were bolting down a hallway. Zak was pulling A along and Darryl was trying to keep up by himself.

"Come on! We took a right here, right?"

"No, it was a left!"

"Oh my goodness, no! It was definitely a right!" 

"Hey! Stop right there!"

 "C'mon, we're going left!" Zak grabbed Darryl's hand and yanked him left, pulling him into another long and treacherous hallway. It was eerily similar to the first hallway they had ventured into, but this one seemed to cut off into a staircase at the end.

The three ran with heavy steps down the hallway, but the further they got the more the noise behind them increased. Zak was beginning to struggle to pull A along as he heaved him up the stairs with him. Darryl helped a bit, but he still had himself to worry about.

"Take him, Zak. Give me your bat and take A."

"No way, dude! C'mon, there are only a few more steps-" 

For once in Darryl's life, he wasn't going to comply in a situation like this. He grabbed the bat and forced it out of Zak's hands, yelling at him to keep going. It took him a moment, but just as the group of people reached the bottom of the staircase, Zak started to head up as swiftly as he could.

"Give me all you've got, muffins."

 

 

8

 

 

Zak put A into the passenger seat, moving it down so he could slightly lay there. Zak hadn't even been given a moment to catch his breath and look at A yet- well, at least, not until now. And god, did he ever look horrible. His lip was swollen, he had a black eye and his glasses looked nearly broken as they were tucked into his jacket's upper pocket. He had blood crusted from his nose to his chin and a bruise on his cheek. 

Zak almost felt guilty for how fine he, himself, had come out.

"What did they do to you, man?" Zak could feel his breathing hitch in his throat. He had no idea what to do and how this had happened- god, he felt so tired and uneasy without Darryl by his side. He was praying the male was safe and that he would come out any time soon.

Zak leaned against the vehicle, head resting against his arms as he felt his face slowly become wet with tears that were becoming to stream. He should have never gone back to talk to Darryl- if he hadn't done that, A would have never left. Zak would have been able to stop it. God dammit, Darryl...

Zak kicked the tire. He immediately regretted it, though, because he doubled over in pain and tears. His sobs were loud and wet and made Zak feel absolutely hopeless.

"Zak! Zak, do you have A?" Zak's gaze immediately darted upwards to who was speaking. His eyes took a moment to adjust, but just a split second before it was too late he realized it was Darryl. Relief took over his body as the male hugged him tightly and proudly, his arms wrapping firmly around the shorter male, while Zak's own arms found their way around Darryl.

"Holy crap, man. Are you okay?"

"I can't really feel anything yet. Is A okay? We should get a move on, fast." Darryl let go of Zak and went around to the other side of the car to get inside. Zak followed him and climbed into the back.  
The car sputtered into motion and as Darryl quickly drove away, Zak made sure to turn his head and watch through the back window the way the doors opened in the building and the same men from before ran out.

It wasn't until Zak really got a good look at them that he recognized them. He had seen them all before- they knew Darryl and he knew them. But from where? From where had he known these men? Why was it on the tip of his tongue-

Zak's blood ran cold.

_Zak swung his legs idly, his feet hitting the wall every second beat as if his body was ticking in time to a slow metronome. They had taken refuge in a local McDonalds they found along the highway, the rain proving to be something to fierce to walk through._

 

 

***

 

well thats a lot to unpack


	7. Seven.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> follow my wattpad @disinclined for consistent updates (:

** waiting to be edited (mind the errors!)

 

 

1

 

 

"We need to ask him what's wrong," Zak told Darryl as they sat in front of a pot that hung lowly over some fire. There was oatmeal inside of it- something they had an abundance of that was easy to cook and filled them up. The back of the car had had some things inside of it (which they finally discovered) so they were cooking up something to eat for the first time in a few days. Zak was excited to fill his stomach and to share a meal with somebody- it had been a long time since he had sat down with some people and gotten close to an old-school family meal.

Speaking of his family, Zak missed his bag. A shirt and photo that both reminded him heavily of his sister had been in there as well as a note from his mom. He now understood that he hadn't appreciated the bag enough when he had it, but also understood that he should learn to let go of materials from time to time.

God, he missed his family, though.

"Soon, Zak. Just give him a bit, alright? We can't force him to talk if he's not ready." Darryl put out the fire and divided the oatmeal into a few different bowls. With a sigh, he got up and took a bowl and spoon to where A was resting in the backseat of the car (which was beginning to become low on gas).

Zak's porridge went cold.

 

 

2

 

 

It was days before Zak brought it up to Darryl again. They were walking through the town's small strip mall when he finally mentioned it.

"Can we please ask him about it?"

"Not yet, Zak-"

"Then when?!" Zak was nearly at his wit's end with this whole 'wait for a bit' business. The male had never been the most patient but he had been willing to wait a few days until they pestered A. It had been well over a few days, though, and Darryl still had yet to even bring the topic back up and Zak wanted nothing more than to waltzed over to A and question him himself.

So, that's what he did. Zak left Darryl's side. Jus ta few stores up ahead, A was peering in a window that had some clothing in the window. He was still in his dirty, blood-soaked black clothing that seemed to have been never washed. They made him stand out, sure, but they must have been killer on the hot days.

"A-" The male jumped at the name, not having heard it in some time. He looked over, brows furrowed just behind his taped glasses. They had broken during the escape so Darryl and Zak searched high and low to find tape to fix them up (Darryl ended up taking some off of his bat and giving it to him). 

"Whoa, dude, calm down. I just wanted to ask you-"

"Zak!" Zak turned so fast he might have gotten whiplash. Darryl placed his hand on his shoulder- not in an aggressive way, not, but instead in a way to grasp his attention. It worked- Zak had halted his speech and was now staring at Darryl. 

A also seemed startled. His eyes were wide as he looked at Darryl, his face painted scared. Darryl's own look was soft, but A seemed to fail to pick up on that as the two stared at one another. Zak was ready to interject, to ask what was wrong, but A just looked back down at his feet and remained silent.

This... This was different. Beforehand, A probably would've cracked a smile or something. Now... Now he wouldn't even look up without blatant fear in his eyes. Worry poked at Zak's stomach- a low, bubbling, sharp fear that filled his lungs and oozed from his mouth. It suffocated him from the inside-out. He couldn't form the words that his brain so desperately wanted him to say- how was he to talk without vocal cords?

"Never mind, actually. Wanna go in this store?" To the surprise of Darryl, Zak switched the topic and headed into the store that A had been staring into. Though an awkward atmosphere had comfortably settled over the group, A followed him nonetheless.

 

As Zak led A around the store, showing him clothes after clothes, the male slowly seemed to grow back into his rhythm (for the most part). He would smile and laugh with Zak, but when Darryl came around he would grow quiet and scared. At first, he didn't notice- Darryl paid no mind to it, really. But soon enough it was becoming more and more obvious, so Darryl sat back and just stayed quiet so Zak could be happy and content with a laughing, cheerful A.

"How 'bout this one?" A pushed the curtain of the changing room aside and stepped out in front of Zak, who was standing. Darryl was only a few feet away, sitting in a chair with one leg crossed over the other. 

Zak smiled, giving a thumbs up. He was just happy that A seemed to have melted out of the fear that kept coming back in waves- he was still in the dark on what it could be.

"Try the other one, though. It's hot so you might want some short sleeves." Zak motioned for A to try the other shirt he had brought into the changing room. The one he had on now was long-sleeved, which would be obnoxious when the heat got worse with the oncoming days as they were pulled further and further into summer. A short-sleeved shirt was definitely the way to go if you had the choice.

"Alright, this is the other one," A pushed back the curtain again and showed up the golf shirt. It was striped red, blue, and white- the collar was folded at the top and the three buttons were done up (with the exception of the last one, which hung open). Zak smiled proudly at him and gave him a final thumbs up with a reassuring nod. This was the shirt- the one.

As Zak stood with A, Darryl's eyes couldn't get but take in the sight of the male's arms. Not that A had arms that were a sight to see, but something seemed to be written on his wrist. Darryl hadn't really seen any markers since they left the sports store, but A hadn't been with them when they had raided it. What could possibly be on him?

"A." Darryl prodded into the conversation and A's former smiles and laughter were cut off, the male going silently and almost visibly slinking back. He wasn't trying to be mean, but it was apparent that he wasn't comfortable.

"A, what's on your arm?" Darryl stood up from the chair, his tone a bit more firm than its ventured to be the last few weeks. He wasn't used to talking like he was almost angry, but from time-to-time, it had to be done no matter what.

When A didn't step up to voluntarily show him his arm and the marking on his wrist, Zak became curious too. He held out his hand and within a minute or two, A gave in and put his wrist to Zak's hand. He turned it over, revealing the ink stabbed into the skin.

Vincent.

Darryl was now standing at Zak's side, staring down at what was being held in his hands. Vincent? Was A's name Vincent? Why was he so reluctant on telling them? Darryl glanced up to the fearful male ahead of them. 

Zak continued to stare for a few moments longer. He didn't get it. Where did he get this so suddenly and why hadn't he told him his name? He let go of his arm and shared a look with 'A', his gaze curious but also hurt. He understood being uncomfortable, but A seemed to be completely fine with him most of the time... He didn't get it.

"Is that your name, dude?" Zak questioned, brows furrowed. The male looked horrified standing under the open fire that was Darryl and Zak's ice cold stares.

"Uh- yeah."

 

 

3

 

 

"I think he's hiding something, dude. He gets so scared around you. Did you do something to him or something?"

"I didn't do anything to him, Zak."

Then there was silence. Zak had put the question on Darryl while they were in the car and Vincent was asleep in the back. Whenever he was with Zak, he was happy and easy to talk to. When Darryl came around, Vincent went quiet and often would try and stay behind Zak (despite being far taller than him). Too scared to ask him what was wrong, Zak was left to wonder what was really wrong with him. He dreaded the idea that Darryl had done something to him and any other day he wouldn't believe that, but in a state of panic and desperateness, he almost wanted to kick the man out of the car at the hands of a crime he didn't commit.

Zak sighed, resting his head against the window the car that was slowly losing more and more gas. The gas light was on and they would only have it for a little while longer before they would have to search for a different one on foot.

"the gas light is on."

"I know, you muffin. We'll find another car, though. Don't worry." Darryl smiled as he turned his head to look at Zak. It was dark out and the features of his face weren't easy to define, but Darryl had seen them enough to burn them into his memory. His thoughts weren't interrupted by him speaking, though.

"One like

 

4

 

This?" Vincent buttoned up the last button of his shirt before putting his arms to show the full look. It was the shirt from a few days before but this time he had it buttoned all the way up. He wanted to know if it looked better like that or the same as before.

"Eh, I like it with one down." Zak smiled at him and turned to grab his bat from where it was leaning against the wall. The two of them were in the bathroom looking in the mirrors and just fooling around while Darryl went to go find them something to eat. It probably wasn't smart to let him go alone, but there was no other way to do it. Vincent couldn't be left with Darryl and they couldn't leave Vincent alone. Zak felt guilt poking at him from all over, but he knew that Darryl was strong and would be fine on his own.

"Looking slick, dude!" Zak complimented as he unbuttoned the top button at his suggestion.

"Alright, let's go," Vincent said and grabbed his fresh bag from the counter. They had grabbed it for him and although he didn't have much inside, he guarded it like no tomorrow. Zak just assumed it was the comfort of having something important and close to him for the first time in a while.

He felt the same way sometimes.

Zak let Vincent leave the bathroom first (he had to rinse up anyways). 

As he stared at himself in the mirror, he felt a sense of being lost. His fingertips pressed against the glass in front of him and he followed along the outline of his face, unsure of what to think. He was really starting to miss showering and having consistent clean clothes.   
As he glanced over to the bathroom door, his mind wandered through thoughts of Vincent. It felt really nice to have an actual name for him now- something more than just a silly letter to call him by. It made him feel closer to him and far more respected, in a sense. 

He really did appreciate him, though, no matter what name he was known by. A or Vincent, he still was slowly beginning to cherish every part of him. His accent and fashion sense, the broken glasses perched on his face. His turning lake eyebrows.

Or maybe they were more like a pond?

No, of course not. Definitely a lake.

Then his mind drifted over to Darryl, who he knew arguably for longer than Vincent. He may have met him after, but he was with him throughout the entire search while Vincent had been nowhere to be found.  
Just the thought of Darryl made his stomach lift in a way that Vincent didn't. His stomach rolled with comfort when Vincent popped into his head, but instead grew a plant of nervousness when he was reminded of Darryl. It wasn't necessarily fear, no, but it was something that rode along those lines. 

He felt like he constantly wanted to impress Darryl. Like he wanted to make a lasting mark on him. He wanted to hold him in his arms and squeeze him to ensure he'd remember him forever- did that make sense? He wanted to-

"Zak! Zak come out here!" 

Zak was interrupted from his thoughts from the voice of the male outside. He grabbed his bat and sped out the door, expecting to see a horde of some sort beginning to swarm Vincent (zombies- something he hadn't seen in a while. Perhaps the heat was something that was too much to deal with?)

"What's wrong-" Zak raced outside, though wasn't created by a swarm of zombies like he had expected. Instead, he was met with a smiling Vincent with a dog at his feet.

Not exactly what he expected.

"Dude, what are you doing?" He walked up to the male and examined the dog that was at his feet. It was clear it wasn't old- perhaps only a puppy. Its ears were long and drooping, the same color as the remainder of its brown fur.

"It just came up to me man," Vincent was speaking through a smile as he crouched down to pet the dog.

It had been a while since Zak had seen any kind of animal, really. Most of them hadn't made it through the last few years and those that did were with groups of people instead of roaming free. And out of all groups of people to stumble upon an animal of some kind, he never expected it to be them.

"We can't leave it," Vincent pressed on as he happily petted the bloodhound. The dog seemed relatively normal (animals tended to be out of the ordinary these days), so Zak just shook his head with a defeated look. He felt like a dad caring for a young child.

"Fine, fine, OK, fine! Keep it. But don't let it get hurt." Zak shook his head and ran a tired hand through his greasy hair, not bothering to pay any mind to the dog. He couldn't believe it- would they really have a dog following them around now? He was worried, honestly. What if it got hurt or sold their spots? There was a list of reasons why they shouldn't be keeping the dog, but before Zak could even get through all of them, Darryl was already coming back with food.

"Oh my goodness, who is this muffin?!" Darryl set his things down and swiftly rushed up to the dog, beginning to pet it alongside Vincent (who seemed too focussed on the dog to shrink away).

"Oh my god, you guys are both children!"

 

***


	8. Eight

*** unedited 3072019

 

 

1

 

 

Tired feet dragged across the gravel as Zak headed into the hotel that the three had taken refuge in for the last few days. The town had been mostly left alone and they had accumulated many cans of soup from the nearby stores. It had been his turn to scout the area to find any local zombies.

It had been a while since Zak had even seen a zombie, which he found peculiar due to the high rate of them being around when the apocalypse first started. 2AZ wasn't that bad but they definitely had been on a decline during that period. Now, as they approached the end of 3AZ, it was almost rare to see a zombie.

Where had all the wildlife gone?

Like migrating birds, the zombies had all fled and though it made things easier, it also coated everything with a thin sheet of worry. Why had they all left? Where had they gone? When will they return? Zak appreciated the lack of blood he got on his hands nowadays, but he did find himself almost missing the distant groans and grunting.

Along with the zombies fled his love for architecture. The newfound lack need to silence the distant moans and noises left him with nothing to drown out the noises with- which had always been architecture. He didn't need to cloud and disguise his worry anymore. 

Darryl was leaving at the same time Zak returned to switch shifts. The sun was setting and the fear was rising- with the realization that all the zombies had gone, came the equal realization that they could return at any moment. And if they did, they needed to be prepared. Zak greeted him with a smile, one that he didn't even know he had in him at that moment.  
Zak wanted to stop Darryl- to tell him to be careful, to give him a parting hug and to wish him a heartfelt goodbye in case he never came back. It was silly, he knew that, but his hands were yearning to connect with him. 

Before Zak's urges could be put into play, Darryl had already walked out and was heading down his planned route. Zak hated himself at that moment- he despised the fact that he let him walk out with such ease when he could so easily get injured. He wanted to tell him to stay inside, make sure he never got hurt so he wouldn't have to see the image of him crying or the way that fear could cloud somebody's eyes so quickly. 

Zak trudged onward.

 

 

By the time Zak had made it up to the top floor, he was even more tired than when he started. Like most humans, he got tired from just a few flights of stairs. Stack that on top of his already current tiredness and you have a full-course meal of exhaustion. Zak turned the key and pushed open the door but was greeted to the image of Vincent curled up, shaking.

"Vincent? Dude, are you okay?" The dog that was lying at his feet perked up but didn't do much other than rest its chin back on Vincent's ankles. Vincent himself almost didn't even bother to look at Zak. His shaking only seemed to intensify under his gaze. The quiver of his lips became far more noticeable and the tracks on his cheeks from beyond his glasses.

"Dude-" Zak's feet that had been previously too exhausted to even climb the stairs had suddenly burst into motion. He headed over to the bed, sat on the edge and pulled Vincent up into a hug.

"What the heck happened man?" 

"A lot... I don't even know, it hurts my head..." His voice broke high in some places and was muffled in others as he shook against Zak's thin frame.

"Tell me slowly, then, or something."

"The people at the place. They wanted Darryl."

 

 

2

 

 

"I don't really remember the trip."

Zak and Darryl listened carefully, sitting knee-to-knee. Zak had pushed Vincent to talk about it a day later to not only him, but to Darryl instead. He wanted the male to hear it- he needed to understand the issue, too. Granted, though, being around Darryl at a time like this was more than awkward. He knew that Vincent didn't want to be around him and even he, himself, was conflicted more than he wanted to be. He wanted the best for Vincent but god did he ever enjoy the presence of Darryl more than anything else in the world.

"It was like a wake-up thing? When you wake up like 'wow, this isn't right'. They were talking about a... About an Operation D?" Zak nodded him along, but Darryl... Well, his brows were furrowed and he seemed to be focussing on Vincent, yet his eyes were clouded and distant.

"They kept, like, asking me where you were? Not Zak, just you." A feeble finger rose and pointed to Darryl, who backed up a bit in his seat. 

"Oh goodness... Oh my goodness..." Almost instinctively, Darryl stood up. It was so fast and so sudden that Zak jumped a bit, having not expected it at all.

"Zak- Zak remember the first day you met me? Outside that McDonalds?"

"Uh, yeah, I think."

"Remember all the people?"

"Yeah."

"I think they're behind all of this."

There was silence between the three of them. Even the dog just stared, as if he understood the same thing they did.

 

 

"Where did you say they were headed?" Darryl asked, the three of them sharing a meal of rice and oatmeal with some soup. They ate a lot of oatmeal these days, but that was only because it was so easy to make and never seemed to be taken off the shelves in stores.

"I think they are heading North. They're trying to get to something up there," Vincent explained. He wasn't too interested in eating, so he placed his bowl on the floor and let the dog lick it clean. He wasn't sure what was causing his appetite to fade away- perhaps it was the intensity of the situation? Or maybe he didn't want Darryl to see him in such a vulnerable position, such as eating. 

"It's in Canada, I think?"

"Canada, alright. That's manageable, right?" Darryl's gaze went from Vincent to Zak, who was stuffing his face. 

For a moment, Zak's breathing hitched. He wanted to confirm with him? Out of everybody at the table, he wanted to make sure it was alright with HIM? His stomach rolled and the butterflies inside fluttered, their wings hitting his skin from the inside and making his cheeks a dusty rose. 

"Sounds good, dude."

Darryl grinned at the three of them, eyes striking behind his glasses. 

"Guess we're going to Canada."

 

***


	9. Nine.

1

 

 

"Got it!" The car roared into action and Darryl's face beamed with a bright smile. His eyes turned at the corners, joining in on the look as he turned behind him to face Zak. Just behind him, Vincent was carrying their bags out to the car with their newfound friend trailing on all fours behind him.

"Heck yeah, man!" Zak climbed into the passenger seat, legs hanging out the side of the car as he watched Vincent load the backseat with their bags and a blanket.   
He'd been feeling a lot better since opening up to Zak and Darryl about what had happened. He wasn't as scared around Darryl and the dog had really helped him break out of the quiet shell he had developed since getting back. Though unnamed, Vincent didn't need something to call it by to get close and attached.

Darryl clambered into the driver's seat and opened his compass. He watched the needle for a moment before closing it and tucking it back into his pocket. 

Zak rolled down his window, head leaning back against his seat as the car sputtered into motion. None of them needed to speak to know that they had quite the journey ahead of them- a trip to Canada and complete cluelessness on where they were going after that. What happens when they get across the border? How do they know where to go? 

"Where are we heading again exactly?" Zak voiced his thoughts, his head turning but not daring to lift off the back of the seat.

"A lab up north, you muffin."

Zak nodded and closed his eyes, letting the wind drift in from the opened windows. The breeze engulfed him, reminded him that he was alive and gave him a sense of feeling. The wind told him that he was okay and breathing- that he was still human.

Worries poked at Zak. Should they really be doing this? Vincent was roughed up... Those guys had seemed to have done something to him. Sure, Darryl knew them, but they were capable of hurting all three of them. At least, by the looks of it.

What if Darryl got hurt?

The thought only briefly crossed Zak's mind, but it made his stomach lurch. His body felt like it was falling, the feeling of one-too-many dreams flooding his senses. Why had that thought even come to mind?

"Vincent, what are you naming the dog?" Darryl's voice sliced the silence. Zak's eyes opened, his gaze turning to the blonde. He couldn't help but be curious as well- what WAS Vincent planning on naming it? 

"Name it Halo or something, dude," Zak suggested. It came from the top of his head but to him it sounded like one badass name.

Vincent shook his head, one hand going up to adjust his glasses while his other hand rested on the dog that was lying next to him. 

"Well whatever you name that muffin I'm sure it'll be cute."

Like a lightbulb had flicked on, Vincent's eyes lit up and a smile pulled at his lips. Zak, though startled initially, couldn't help but smile back as he turned his body to peer into the backseat at his friend.

"Muffin! That's it!" Vincent grinned down at the dog, whose head was now raised as it stared at all three of them.

"I'll name him Muffin."

 

 

2

 

 

Entering Canada was possibly the most surreal feeling in the weirdest way possible. For one, it had a different vibe. Things felt oddly quiet, despite the silence that still was prominent in the US. 

Oh, and there were zombies.

For the first time in a while, Zak was seeing the undead again. The wildlife was back.

At first, it was only one or two about an hour across the border. Vincent pointed one out and Muffin barked at another. The further they traveled, though, the more they saw. Zak tried his hardest not to care at first- he wasn't supposed to mind, after all. He was used to zombies, they had been roaming for 3 years now.   
He couldn't ignore the fact that it was odd, though. He had been told that there were no zombies up north, but alas there seemed to be just as many (if not more) than there had ever been in the south.

"We should check out that warehouse," Zak pointed to a chunky building up the road. The street was littered with few zombies, lucky for them.  
It was still weird, though. Surreal, even. Zak had just gotten comfortable with the feeling of not having to silence every step and walk around ready to attack. Now he was back to square one.

Zak gripped the bat firmly in his hand and stepped out of the car. Vincent clambered out at about the same time as him, Muffin hopping out after him as Darryl walked around to mee them. Though they looked prepared (bats in hand and ready to attack), Zak couldn't help but feel extremely nervous on the inside. His stomach was doing summersaults and he was struggling to put one foot in front of the other as they began to walk.

The warehouse was relatively empty, for the most part. A flashlight led the way as they ventured forth.

It felt like it was 2AZ again. Zak shining a light, weapon in hand as he slowly crept through darkened buildings. It was a weird sense of nostalgia, almost, as he pushed open door after door and checked area after area.

"This one's clear-"

BARK! BARK!

In a hurry, Muffin darted forward. The sudden action made Zak jump and Vincent yell, but despite the panic, the two stood motionless for a long second.  
Surprisingly enough, Darryl was the first one to move. He broke into a hurried sprint after the puppy, Zak and Vincent following close behind.

By the time the three of them caught up (out of breath and horrified), they were in a room that though had close walls, went quite high up with a very thin staircase. 

Muffin was sniffing the floor, snout running against the cement as he followed an invisible trail of something. Zak and Vincent watch as the puppy walked along the floor. Zak turned back to tell Darryl to come along with them but stopped cold.

"Darryl! Watch out!" Zak yelled just in time for Darryl to step out of the way of a zombie falling from the staircase overhead. The noise of the body hitting the ground, and Muffin barking in reaction to it, was enough to set one understanding among all three of them: That wasn't the only one they were about to see.

It what felt like less than a second, footsteps after footsteps came into earshot. It wasn't until the first three came through the door that Zak really took in what was happening.

The three of them, and Muffin were backed up into the far corner of the room beneath the stairs. Though bats in hand, it seemed the more they hit and sent to the ground, the more came. Zak swung and swung, blood flying with every hit and yelling playing in each ear, but it felt like it never stopped.

Clang.

Zak's bat dropped to the ground and he let out a yell- something that didn't help the situation. He felt the cold of the wall press through the fabric of his shirt and squeezed his eyes shut, taking in every last sound of groaning and barking.

Silence.

Everything went quiet.

Zak's eyes opened.

He expected there to be nothing- to be in the car, having dreamt everything. Or perhaps for everything to be white, maybe he arrived at the gates of heaven? Instead, it was him cowering in between Vincent and Darryl with the floor ahead covered in blood and decaying bodies.

His eyes drifted up, catching onto a figure on the stairwell. He squinted, trying to adjust to the weird lighting in the room but not quite being able to. His blurred vision watched the figure travel down the stairs, hop off the bottom and immediately go to the dog that was at Vincent's side.

"Aw, what a good boy!" He was petting the puppy, hands cupping either side of its face as he smiled down at it. Finally, he stopped and stood up straight.

Like a scene from a movie, he stood tall and proud. He knives tucked into a belt on his pouch (a pistol tucked in amongst them) and a nail-penetrated bat with the top against the ground.   
On his face sat a pair of glasses. Why did everybody have glasses nowadays?

"What the heck, what the heck, what the HECK-"

Needless to say, Zak was freaking the fuck out.

He didn't know who this was, why they had helped-

"I'm Dave." 'Dave' held out his hand to Zak, who hesitantly grabbed it and got up off the ground. Joining him was a startled Vincent and a just-as-confused Darryl.

"Where did you come from, dude?" Zak asked, brows furrowed as he examined the man. He clearly meant business.

Dave stood proud with his many weapons for display and a red jacket loosely hanging off of him. He must've found it somewhere along the way of his journey and vibed with it- but Zak couldn't blame him, it was pretty freaking cool. 

"Uh, up there, I think." Dave pointed towards the stairs, which led to a door at the top that was pushed open.

Finally, Darryl spoke up.

"Oh my goodness... You're just gonna come in here and save us like that for no reason? I mean, thank you, but why?"

"It wasn't really to save you, I just like killing zombies, man."

 

 

3

 

 

Zak leaned down, the head of his bat poking at the black substance oozing from the zombie's head. It was all over the floor, bugs crawling in and out of it. Zak recalled seeing it weeks back after the death of an old animal, but he had just assumed it was specific to that one creature. Instead, here he was, in a room coated in it.

"What is it?" Vincent asked, eyes looking over the mess of the floor as Muffin followed close behind him. The dog wasn't too keen on the zombies but didn't seem to mind stepping over them.

"I don't really know. People are saying it's because of the research lab up north releasing chemicals."

"Research lab?" Darryl spoke up, his gaze going to Dave beyond his glasses. 

"Yeah. Further up north, out in Nunavut, there's a research facility that's doing work on zombies and trying to figure out a vaccine. They keep getting close, but everybody they test it on keeps turning out wrong. I guess it just kind of mutated into whatever this is now?" Dave sat down on the table across the room, one knee pointed up to the ceiling while on hung low. 

"In Nunavut?" Darryl asked to confirm, but his gaze was no longer on Dave. His head turned and he looked back at Zak and Vincent, who had the same shine in their eyes as he did.

"Yeah."

"Hey, dude, do you know how to get up there?" Zak asked, standing up straight and picking up his bat from the floor. It was highly messy, but nothing a little wash couldn't fix. 

"I mean, yeah."

"Can you take us?"

 

 

4

 

Vincent tossed their bags into the back of the car, closing the trunk and climbing into the seat with Dave at his side, Muffin trailing just a few feet behind. Just a little ways away, Zak was stopping Darryl from walking to the car.

"Darryl, can I talk to you?"

"What do you need, muffin?"

"I just- I don't know. I've been feeling, like, weird, and I wanted to tell you? Just hear me out, dude. I've had this ongoing thing where I really want you to be safe if that makes sense? Like, obviously I don't want you hurt or anything, but this is something really strong that I feel in my gut. And I just wanted to tell you that I really want you to be careful, with, like, everything, dude. You mean a lot to me in ways I can't put into words." It was word vomit, to say the least. Though he didn't know how to say everything properly, he tried his hardest.

"Zak-" Darryl couldn't find the words to say for a long moment. 

His hand reached out and ruffled his dark hair.

"Don't worry, I'm not getting hurt any time soon, you muffin." With that, Darryl slung his arm around Zak's shoulders and pulled him close with a smile.

"Hey! Are you guys coming?" Vincent called out, his body half-in the car and half-out, with his foot resting on the frame of the inside. His hand was raised, waving at the two.

Zak smiled, looking down at his shoes. Finally, his gaze met Darryl's.

"Let's go, silly," Darryl said, his grin audible in his voice as he started to head towards his newfound family.


	10. Ten.

***unedited 03092019

 

 

1

 

 

Zak lifted his feet onto the dash, his seat reclined back just slightly as to not bother the male behind him.

It was odd, really. The fact that he had started on his own in a lonely city, but was now sitting in a car with three other people as they journeyed to a northern research lab. Where had it all begun? When had his fate twisted?

_Light. That was what was engulfed around him, twisting and turning its ways through every bone in his body and digging a grave he knew he'd be buried alive in. His world seemed to stop as he stood, like a deer, against the light. He could not move. His muscles dared not to venture further or back, but to only stay in one place as if sifting for a specific destiny. A deer in headlights. Quite literally._

Was it back in the city, perhaps? Maybe those months ago when he was traveling solo, worried only about himself. Things were easier then, he'd tell anybody. Things were easier because he only had to care for himself- there was no baggage and no worrying about everybody around him. Things were easier because if he died, he knew nobody would know. It'd be less difficult to deal with that way.

_The bedroom door burst open and it sent Zak stumbling back, fighting against the force to catch his feet and regain a steady stance. Before him stood a male, much taller than he was, drenched in black clothing. His brows were furrowed, his lips curled downward as he held strongly onto a red crowbar that was doused with rust and crusted blood._

Perhaps it was when he met Vincent, who, at the time, he called A. The male crashed into his life and they had been stuck together since. Was that the turning point? Vincent had come into his life and shown Zak what it was like to worry about other people. He showed him that maybe things were easier with a partner- that there was no reason to roll solo.

_The male who was yelling at him was much taller than he was- though that was only expected for as Zak was not very tall. His hair was dirty blonde but not the stupid kind. It was a genuine mess between brown and blonde locks, the color seemingly unable to decide. His skin was pale, though he had a bandana on that was covering the lower half of his face. He had glasses and though they were not very appealing, they didn't necessarily make him look back._

Was it when he met Darryl?

Zak's stomach churned. It wasn't a bad shift, though. His head turned, bringing him back from his glazed look. His eyes caught ahold of the male driving. His dirty-blonde hair, the glasses perched on his face and the way he furrowed his brows as he drove as if to look out for something specific.

Darryl would never hurt a fly. Zak knew that. He had seen him kill zombies, but that was different- it was necessary. It was as needed as eating and breathing. He would never hurt another LIVING thing, though. Zak could guarantee it. His heart was huge- he admired it.

Zak had forced Darryl into his life. He hadn't walked into it on his own as Vincent had- Vincent had really been fate, but Darryl was something Zak had wanted without knowing it. He sought him out, traveled back to find him. Darryl had stuck with him every step of the way since. He never complained, never wished for a different life. 

Zak's lips turned up at the corners, his eyes joining at the corners.

His gaze went back out the window, where he watched the world go by. 

 

 

2

 

 

Perhaps it had all changed when Vincent left. No, of course, that changed everything, but was it for the better? 

It brought him and Darryl closer together, gave them something to look for, something to push after.

It was a task. Vincent leaving gave them something to do. It gave them a reason.

But things continued when Vincent returned. They had a new task with a new reason- so surely it hadn't been that? Or maybe, just maybe, life was just a neverending series of opening and closing loops, and Zak was only just realizing that. 

Life never closed a loop without opening a new one, after all.

Zak pulled his feet off the dash and crossed his legs instead. His head rested against the glass and he tried to register Dave talking to Darryl, but it felt like background noise. He couldn't lace words together, he couldn't recognize what anything met.

Had his fate changed when they ran into Dave? No, that was too late, wasn't it? They had already found themselves at that point, had they not?

Like Vincent, Dave had stumbled into their lives. It was by chance that they had been in the warehouse at the same time, and it was by chance that they both had the connecting pieces for a larger puzzle.

It was all by chance, wasn't it?

Or maybe they had all contributed to changing fate. Maybe, they all just contributed at different times.

Vincent kickstarted the change. He tumbled into Zak's life, learned to trust him and moulded the two into a duo. He opened Zak's opinion on traveling solo and dyed it into one of more colour- one that showed him he didn't have to be alone.

Zak had forced Darryl into his fate. He pulled him into his life, brought him to be a group. He used what he learned from Vincent to manipulate his fate even more and become entranced in such a magical male. He brought Darryl into his story and loved him like he was the main character. While Vincent showed him how to exist with another person, Darryl showed him how to care. He showed him how to understand and communicate with another person.

Dave's journey into their life was accidental. Completely by mistake, even. He knew next-to-nothing about him, but he admired his confidence. The male had done nothing but speak of what he knows most about since joining that.

Perhaps Dave will alter his fate even more, soon?

Zak's head left the glass. His body turned as he peered into the back seat.

Vincent was asleep. His eyes were closed, his mouth was slightly open and he looked at peace.

The dog sat in the middle. Its head was on Vincent's lap, but its mind was traveling in its own dream world.

Dave sat on the other side, no longer talking to Darryl but instead watching the window.

These people were all apart of his story. They had all changed his fate.

Zak's body turned back and he leaned against his seat. His head hit the glass gently, and he lied in silence while the world passed by him.

 

 

3

 

 

"Zak, we're here."


	11. Eleven.

***unedited 03092019

 

 

 

 

1

 

 

 

"It's not as cold as I thought it would be..." Zak said, taking in a few deep breaths of the Kugluktuk air.

They had been in and out of cars for days before Zak had even been woken from his thoughts. It felt so nice to finally be out of a vehicle.

"Wheres all the snow?" Darryl asked, turning to look at Dave. They had all mutually agreed that because they found Dave in Canada, he was some kind of expert. They had been asking him all the questions and so far, he had been alright at answering them.

"Because it's the middle of the summer," Dave replied dryly. He fixed the rim of his coat, still wearing it despite the weather being quite hot, and started to walk away from the car.

 

Just ahead was a small town. A collection of houses and some people sitting outside on chairs, talking and laughing. The five (including Muffin), though nervous, started to head over.

Zak had heard so much about Canada being too cold for zombies, but since entering he had seen a lot of them. More than he had seen in the states for awhile! They had passed many while driving down the highways.   
This community, though, didn't seem to be bothered.

Dave led the way as they approached a group of people sitting outside one of the rectangular homes. They looked unsure at first, even unwelcoming, but didn't say anything to confirm it.

"Where's the research lab?" Dave asked, his voice as dull and monotone as always. Over the last bit, Zak had learned that he wasn't rude- no, he was just really fucking dry. He didn't really have much emotion to his voice.

The group spoke to each other in a language none of them knew. Dave seemed unbothered, but Darryl had a confused look on his face. It was nearly as bad as when Vincent and Darryl had fought over Darryl's name in French in the car some weeks ago. They said something that Dave seemed to understand. The male nodded his head and turned directions, beginning to walk. He waved them along with his hand.

 

 

 

2

 

 

 

Getting to the lab, luckily, didn't take as long. The four (not including Muffin) had been fortunate enough to stop driving in a good area. Kugluktuk was right by their desired location- it was only just outside of the town.   
At first, Zak was a bit surprised it wasn't far further north. But as they drove a bit further and he had time to think about it himself, he began to understand that maybe the location was actually alright. Harsh winters, sure, but the summers didn't seem to be too bad.

Zak clambered out of the car, his gaze going over the roof and to the two across from him. There was a weird air- something that was unspoken. None of them really understood what they were about to do, but they were all sure it would be fine with each other.

Dave started walking and Zak swore he almost puked. His muscles wouldn't go forward- his body wouldn't let him move. Was it because he was sure he wouldn't come back? Or maybe it was from the sheer fear of not wanting to see his friends get hurt? As the other two began to walk, with Muffin trailing at Vincent's feet, Zak finally managed to get going. His steps were slow at first as if he had just learned to walk, but soon enough he was staring at the doors of the building.

It wasn't at all like he imagined it.

He had envisioned something large and made of expensive materials with cool sci-fi things. Instead, it looked almost like a slight-larger-than-average house that you would find outside of town. Zak was sure that calling it a 'lab' was a bit of a stretch.

"What is the plan?" Vincent asked. He hadn't spoken in awhile- he had seemed pretty tied up in his own thoughts. Zak didn't blame him, though. What they were about to do could be pretty dangerous- these people seemed to only have an evergrowing fire within them.

"I don't know, charge in there?" Dave piped up.

"Oh my goodness... No. I know who is in there running it if these are the same people and they actually headed north like Vincent said. It's a guy named Daniel, but our entire group called him Keem. He's running everything- he's the reason why our group took to stealing things and raiding buildings in the first place. If that muffin is running this all, he's definitely going to be in there. Taking him down will make everything else easier." Though it hurt Darryl to have to go against his old group, he understood that sometimes lines had to be drawn and sometimes they got crossed. Breaking free from his old friends and joining Zak had been the most refreshing thing for him in a while, and after the incident with Vincent, his fire boomed bright with the need for revenge.

"But what if it's, like, really big on the inside? It could take us all day to find him," Zak spoke with nervousness dripping from his words. His stomach was doing flips.

"Then it takes us all day. We traveled far to get here and I'm ready to do this," Darryl finalized.

The four looked at each other, unsure of their next move. They all said they were ready, but god, they all felt so unprepared. It took two minutes before somebody finally spoke and broke the dreadful silence.

"I'll stay outside and make sure nobody gets away." Dave grinned.

 

 

"Are you muffins ready?" Darryl asked, looking up at Zak as he gave the dog a final pat on the head before they headed in. Vincent wanted to join them inside, but the dog refused to wait for him with Dave. He had decided to risk it- to bring him inside with him. Vincent knew he was smart, and he felt it in his guts that the dog would make it out fine.

"Pretty much." Zak fixed his grip on the bat 

 

 

 

3

 

 

 

Getting into the lab was the easy part. The hard part was finding Mr. Keem's office. They snuck down a staircase into the basement, which was far larger than the top. Walking around was the most surreal experience- they passed glowing things after glowing things. At one point, they all stopped to peer into a glass container where a zombie was frozen in place. Oozing from cracks in its skin was a light blue, neon goop.

They moved on pretty quickly after, though.

"I think we got it," Darryl finally said after a while.

The hallway they were heading down, lined with glass with wooden beams on either side, ended with a door. It had no lock, no real security. For a minute, Zak couldn't believe how easy it was to get inside.

Zak's hands clasped around the handle of the door and he pulled it open.

The lights ahead turned to a deep red. The intercom that lined the walls began to blare the noise of a siren. Panic started to creep into Zak as Muffin began to bark.   
Hastily, he headed into the room and looked around, one hand over his left ear while he still held the bat with his right. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult by the second.

"Not so fast." A louder voice called from across the room. Zak's gaze snapped over, his brows furrowed his left hand going to join his right with the bat. Though fear pricked at him, he knew he could focus and deal with the situation at hand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" The man looked past Zak and to who was behind him. Zak's own head turned and he soon understood that he was looking at Darryl.

As Darryl gripped his own weapon tightly in his hands, Zak, like a scene from a movie, felt his reality slip away.

He needed to take this man down or he wouldn't see the sun again.

Zak charged forward, his bat swinging for Mr. Keem's stomach and getting a solid hit in. He stumbled back, coughing, but Zak knew it wouldn't be that easy. His arms rose and he went to put in another hit-

BANG!

The door swung open again, the handle hitting the wall as footsteps stormed inside. The screams of the sirens overhead filled Zak's ears, disorientating him and making him feel as if he could drop to the floor any second. With unsteady feet, he attempted to swing again but the sound of a yelping dog caught him off guard.

Turning to look back at the cause of the noise, he let his guard down for a moment. It was within that moment, though, that a force met the back of his head and he was out cold.

 

 

 

 

4

 

 

 

From across the room, Darryl saw Zak go down.

Never before could he say he felt his blood boiling. Not until right then. Not until that body hit the floor.

Striking who was dealing with at the moment on the head, he watched them tumble before snapping his gaze over to Keem.

Hands firmly wrapped around the handle of his own bat, he swung at the male. The first two were avoided, but the third one managed to hit the male. He watched as the wood bashed against his head. The way the male fell back against the wall behind him. The way the male's mouth hung open, his eyes half-lidded but distant.

Another yelp sounded past the alarms.

Muffin.

"Vincent we have to go!" Darryl was slowly trying to work Zak up off the ground. Luckily, the male was gaunt and short. He managed to get him up, Vincent rushing over to help.

With the noise chanting around them, the two carried Zak out of the room just as dark started to fill the area.

 

 

 

Darryl and Vincent, with no sign of Muffin, had taken Zak to a room that broke off of the office they had previously been in. This one was small and wooden, with a stone floor and only one light overhead. Who knows what it must have been- seemed like some kind of timeout room if anything.

"Come on, Zak..."

Slowly, the male's eyes began to open. His head was pounding and his breathing was slow to start, but he managed to sit up and look around at the two people with him. It wasn't that he couldn't remember what happened, no, but it was that he couldn't believe he was waking up again.

"What the heck, what the heck, what the HEC-" A bottle of water met his lips and soon enough he was downing gulps of it. It helped his chalky throat and empty stomach to feel full again.

"Where are we?"

"We're still in the building, but I think I know how we can get out." Darryl's finger jerked to a small door on the side of the room. When opened, a small crawl-space intertwined its way ahead.

 

 

 

 

5

 

 

 

Crawling through the tight space wasn't the hard part. No... doing it before the entire building erupted in flames was.


	12. Twelve (Finale).

*** unedited 03092019

 

 

 

1

 

 

 

"Are you guys ready to go through?" Darryl asked, zipping up his sweater and preparing to get into the tiny space. With a few nods as a silent response, Darryl felt confident enough to get into the escape tunnel and beginning climbing along.

As Vincent followed in after, Zak stayed behind for only a moment to take care of unfinished work.

He opened the door that separated the room they were in and the hallway they had carried him into it from. He looked at the wood beams, the walls leading to the office and listened to the distant noise of alarms and sirens. Finally, he fished into his bag and pulled out a matchbox.

Gripping multiple at once, he struck them at once and dropped them to the floor before hurrying back to the hatch.

 

 

 

2

 

 

 

"Holy shit, you're alive!" Dave's face, when Darryl emerged from the building with Vincent at his side, was something they would never forget. The way his mouth turned into a smile and his eyes showed layers of surprise as he went to hug them- that, well... It was epic.

"Where's Zak? Where's Muffin?" As if on cue, Zak came out from behind the building as well.

It was just on time, too, as the flames slowly had begun to crawl up the floors of the building and reach the part that was on land.

Though Dave was happy to see Zak, and gave him a smiling wave, Darryl was the most ecstatic. As if he hadn't seen the boy for a million years, he rushed to him and wrapped his arms around his frail frame in a tight hug. The two stood for a long, long moment as the building got aflame behind them.

"I'm so happy you're okay. You weren't behind Vincent and I and I got so worr-"

Zak's lips met Darryl's.

Like a page from a storybook, rain began to roll down from the cloudy sky as the two's lips moulded together like pieces of a puzzle. They fit perfectly and complimented one another- painting a bigger picture.

When they broke for air, they could do nothing but smile and bathe in each other's presence. The thankfulness that they were both okay, the happiness that this chapter of their book was closing and the sheer joy that they were all together again.

Woof!

Running out from behind the burning building came a barking Muffin.

 

 

3

 

 

 

"I hate the rain," Vincent said, elbow resting on his leg as the fire ahead boomed with a bright glow. Though it could be seen from miles, it felt like an abyss up close. Smoke blew from the top, twisting and turning into the night sky. The rain would quench the fire.

 

"Me too." Darryl got up and held his hand out. He pulled Vincent up and handed him his water bottle, a smile pulling at his delicate lips.

 

"Let's keep moving," Darryl finalized, and from the corner of his eyes, he could see Zak grinning.

 

 

 

_Their journey wasn't over, it had only just begun._


End file.
